Tales of The Dragonborn
by Augustino Alighieri
Summary: The Dragonborn had saved Skyrim, ended the Civil War and performed every little favour for every little quest-giver, overall - there was nothing left to do. However, when a new threat arises in the form of an ancient vampire and a plot to put out the sun, The Dragonborn is called back to duty and must save the world once more. My OC!DragonbornxSerana, eventual romance/lemons.
1. Awakening

Hi, new fic. Yay.

This is something of a side-project, I will still be working more on my F/Z RoD and this'll be more like; "Update whenever I care to."

The main characters are Serana and The Dragonborn - yes it is a pairing. My Dragonborn (Despair, yes I know - dont review me on how dumb the name is, he's the protagonist to a novel I'm writing and I model most videogame characters I play after him if customization is an option). I will try to stay in-lore but will take creative liberties now and again. Of course, my combat and such will be MUCH more vivid than what you'd ever find in-game. I will use Dragon-Language where appropriate and because I'm lazy wont say what some of the words mean - you can find them here - wiki/Dragon_Language

I hope you enjoy, please review, etc...tell me what you think.

I do not own The Elder Scrolls or anything affiliated with it, only my own ideas.

* * *

Isran had told him time and time again; vampires were not to be trusted.

The old Dawnguard leader would probably hang his innards on a crossbow bolt if he knew were Despair was now, or who he was with.

He had pushed several thoughts to the back of his mind since meeting Serana in Dimhollow. Together they had made the distance from the crypt all the way to Solitude Docks; where the pair had gotten – for the extra fee – a boat to Icewater Jetty. One of those thoughts kept popping up in his mind, namely every time he looked at her.

_She's beautiful._

How amusing. The cynical Arch-Mage of Winterhold, pragmatic Thieves Guild Master and sarcastic Harbinger of Whiteruns Companions still fell victim to the "love at first sight" gag. Even Astrid would laugh at him, if she was still alive.

Or perhaps Serana just was that beautiful.

Despair had to ignore that though. He had met plenty of pretty women in Skyrim, one more wasn't going to be a problem to him. What was going to be the problem was the Elder Scroll on her back.

_That's why we're here. That's why I followed her._ He justified to himself, it wasn't lies, but it wasn't the full truth.

'Despair.'

Her voice took his attention and he turned his head towards her.

'Before we go in I just wanted to say thanks. I doubt most strangers would have helped me out like you did.' She said.

'Don't mention it. It would have been rude of me to have left you there, not to mention you have an Elder Scroll.'

She let herself smile a little, though she had doubts about his motives – if it was only the Scroll he was after or not.

Slowly the pair walked up the bridge that led to the great black castle, Serana's home. Castle Volkihar was impressive, even compared to what the Dragonborn had seen in his time.

Snow whipped at his long black coattails and they flapped in the wind. The Arch-Mage robes were stylish, functional and practical for the cold climate of Skyrim. He was so grateful for its fur-lining and heavy design, yet light enough to let its wearer duck and dodge spells and steel without too much strain.

His hair was dark and messy – covered by his hood in the howling wind. The boots he wore were of Dragonscale make – infused with the very scales of the flying monsters that he had slain. On his left hand he wore the same style of armour as his boots – altered to go all the way up to the shoulder – while on his right he wore nothing but a glove.

In his time in Skyrim he had encountered and proceeded to butcher eight Dragon Priests – Lich's loyal to the Dragon Cult long after the deaths of their masters. He had his choice of which one he would proudly wear as a trophy. Eventually he had decided on Morokei – proudly wearing the mask that he had looted from the corpse of its namesake.

As they got to the door the shape of the castle shielded them a bit from the weather. Despair reached out to open the doors, only stopping as Serana spoke up.

'Hey, I know that you saved me, but I think you should just let me do the talking.' Serana said just as Despair had his hand to the door of the keep.

'Sure, I just wonder what kind of reception we'll get.' He added.

The door was heavy, but Despair managed to push it – using a bit of Magicka in the process to fuel his muscles. Instantly a warm light from inside greeted them as they left the snow and wind behind. As they entered, both of them pulled their hoods down and walked in, only to be met by a haughty High Elf.

'What's this? Who are yo…wait. Serana, is that truly you?' The man grew in surprise as he spoke.

'Yes it's me. Would you kindly let my father know?' She replied.

'Yes, of course my lady.' The Elf bowed and turned, entering a large chamber full of tables and other people.

_Vampires._ Despair thought. He knew where he was heading and he'd killed more than his fair share of the night-children, but there were far more than he'd expected here. Instantly he felt several pairs of orange-tinted lenses fix on him, then Serana.

'Don't worry.' She whispered to him, taking him by slight surprise. 'As long as you're with me, they won't attack you.'

'My lord, Serana has returned.' The Elf in front of them announced to the court. Every single vampire turned their heads and stared at her and at Despair beside her.

'Well, my daughter.' A voice rang out from the centre of the room, powerful and deep. 'Do you have my Elder Scroll?'

Despair was surprised he hadn't noticed the man before. Bearded, wearing robes more regal than the rest and standing at the centre of the room, Volkihar's Lord greeted his daughter, or at least his Scroll strapped to her back.

'Yes father, I have it.' Her tone was annoyed. 'Really after all this time, the first thing you ask me is about your Scroll.'

'But of course my dear, you look well enough without me having to ask. And who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?' He turned towards Despair, dark eyes meeting the pair behind a mask.

'He is the one who saved me from the tomb you locked me into, _father._'

'I see, so tell me – what is your name, savoir.' The vampire began to circle around Despair, like some kind of predatory beast.

_If only he was aware of just whom the true prey is. _The intimidation tactic was lost on Despair, he'd seen much more, from more impressive foes.

'Shouldn't the host offer his first?' Despair replied snarkily.

'Very well. I am Harkon, Lord of this court and castle.'

'My name is Despair. It's a pleasure to meet you.' There was an edge of sarcasm to his voice, but Despair did sincerely enjoy meeting new people – even if at some point their heads ended up at his feet.

'I see. Tell me Despair, do you know what we are?'

'Don't insult me like that, you're all vampires.' Low whispers ran around the court like mice, but none loud enough to be heard.

'Well done. However, we are not like the vampires you know. We are the strongest breed, blessed by the Lord of Domination; Molag Bal himself. I assure you, we are more than typical _vampires._'

_I'm going to have to have a word with him in Markarth when I get the chance. And to think, I went all the way as to fixing his alter._

'Interesting. I take it you don't affiliate yourselves with the vampires that run wild in Skyrim.'

Harkon grinned. 'Witness the power of _true _vampires!'

Around him, Despair felt a malevolent energy grow. He could feel Serana grow uneasy too – watching Harkon suddenly double over and pant.

His skin turned black, veins bulging out of his flesh like worms and his face twisting. The bones in his limbs and body cracked – sounding like they'd shattered – quickly reforming into longer versions of themselves. His teeth – all of them – elongated and sharpened with his jaws changing thought a series of self-breaking and regeneration to accommodate them. From his back, two lumps writhed to break free – suddenly bursting out in a spray of blood into two, clawed wings.

Despair shielded himself with his arm, and when he looked back he saw Harkon before him in all his glory. The monster floated before him, hideous and radiating power.

'This…is the Vampire Lord.' He announced proudly.

Around the trio, the court of vampires moved uneasily. Despair could sense it, Serana could sense it and he was almost certain that Harkon took pleasure in it.

'Most impressive.' Despair said after a long time.

'Yes father, you've proved your point – we're better than everyone, just as you always said.' Serana said, sounding unamused.

'Serana hold your tongue! I wish to say something to our guest.' He shot back, escalating the tone unnecessarily.

'Now, Despair. I will give you a choice; you can leave – alive – as payment for rescuing my daughter, but only this once. Or you can have my power – the power of a true vampire. You will walk as a lion among sheep.'

Despair considered his options. He couldn't go back and tell Isran what he'd seen – especially that the vampires had an Elder Scroll. On the other hand, he didn't like Harkon very much – and he could feel that the vampire reciprocated that.

Then he looked to Serana, reminding himself why he was here in the first place.

'Choose Despair, I will only offer this gift to you once.' Harkon chided.

Despair frowned behind the visage of Morokei. _If you insist._

'I accept your gift.'

Harkon smiled and set his floating form down and walked over towards Despair and clutched his shoulders.

'Good choice.' He whispered as he leant down to bite.

Despair felt himself go dizzy as he felt his energy drained from him. Slowly he lost consciousness – the world turning into black as he staggered and fell to the floor. The last things he heard were the sounds of the court, a second dull thud and Serana's voice calling out to him.

Grand things usually start with a simply decision.

* * *

When he woke up he was in Darkness. Pure Darkness, the kind that wasn't ever aware of the concept of "light".

Everything ached; his bones, his muscles and in particular – a small spot on his neck. He groaned and opened his eyes, feeling himself lying on Darkness' floor.

_'Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin.'_

He snapped his neck up and saw that within the Darkness were two glowing eyes – cruel, dominating red. As his eyes adjusted to the black abyss he saw what was looking at him. Behind the eyes was a large body, adorned with spikes and scales that emanated power and pride. They were set deep in the large black head of the beast, its snout rose with its breath.

Within Darkness a great black dragon – with a hide so black it separated itself from the abyss with its pallor – Alduin the World Eater stirred, waiting for the Dragonborn to do so.

'Alduin. It's never a pleasure of mine to see you.' The low voice of the Dragonborn responded.

Slowly the figure rose up – his hands pounding into the metaphysical floor as he pushed himself up, and to his feet. His eye line never dropped from the dragon's gaze and when he finally stood he saw that Alduin's snout was bowed to him.

In response to the smaller beings words, the old dragon laughed – a low rumble coming from his mouth.

When the Despair; the Dragonborn – had slain Alduin in Sovngarde, all those months ago – he had expected to be done with the menace. However, to the surprise of all that had been present Alduin's soul was absorbed by his killer. The Dragonborn hadn't felt any different – usually being able to notice the power he gained from other dragons. He dismissed it and gave his farewells to the Nordic Heroes of Old, asking Tsun to return him to Mundus.

It was on that ethereal journey that Despair learned what had actually happened. Inside of him – he hadn't only absorbed Alduin's soul, he had absorbed the entirety of the airborne apocalypse. Since then Despair had lived his life and adventured all the while with Alduin living within his soul. The dragon had lost none of his arrogance or pride, and seemed to a developed a sarcastic, snarky personality during his time inside the Dragonborn's inner realm. A begrudging respect had been garnered from The World Eater though, and his deep philosophies on all things meant that Despair occasionally talked to him. Though they didn't regularly converse – and they hadn't since done Despair had killed Ulfric Stormcloak – leader of the Nord-fueled rebellion and inciter of the Civil War that had raged across Skyrim.

'What happened?' He asked the dragon.

'_You don't remember? You were in Sos Naak Golz, you let the Sos Konahriik, Blood Lord, bite you.'_

'Ah, yes. Harkon.' Despair frowned at the memory, resisting the temptation to touch the bite mark – it still stung.

Despair stretched himself out, and then looked back at Akatosh's prideful firstborn.

'What do you think of my decision, Alduin?' He addressed the black mass.

'_Geh, I too would have chosen power. But the Sos – blood within you…Vokul Vokun. '_ He spoke slowly and from a deep pit.

'Tch. What sould I have expected from the Dov Paar?' Despair replied sarcastically.

_'Kroniid. Do not grow Pahlok, in Suleyk, your power. Muz, men, are not all "sheep" as Sos Konahrik claims.'_

'Don't worry, I'm not going to fall into the same trap you did. Besides – it'd be no fun if I was absorbed and stuck with you inside someone else's soul for eternity.' His wit was not lost on Alduin, just disregarded entirely.

'Anyway, I'm going back now. I have things to do in Mundus.'

_'Farewell Dovahkiin. Tiid Unslaad.'_

* * *

His eyes snapped open – though it went unseen as they were hidden beneath his mask.

_Why the hell wouldn't they take it off if I fell unconscious?_

He raised his hand to his face and grabbed Morokei's visage. Slowly pulling it off – Despair felt the cold air of Castle Volkihar touch his face, though it didn't bother him like cold usually did. Setting the mask down he rubbed his forehead, still dull from all that time asleep – however long it was.

His skin was naturally pale – turning chalk white as with most vampires. He had dark eyebrows and hair and his now glowing eyes were deep set in his face. Relatively high cheek bones and a defined jawline were home on Despair's face. Feeling dry, he licked his lips, finding his canines sharper and more pronounced as his tongue ran over them.

'So that's what you look like under that mask.' A feminine voice said from his right.

Turning, he saw Serana leaning against the wall – smiling gently at him.

'I have to say, you're fairly attractive under it.' Another smile and Despair chuckled along with that comment.

'You're not bad looking yourself, Serana.' He replied, giving a toothy grin – his new vampire assets showing.

She laughed at his remark and stood up, slowly walking over to where he was lying down. She picked up the mask and held it to her face, observing its features. Despair leaned back – suddenly sitting back up when he discovered that he wasn't in a bed, he was in a coffin.

'Who put me in here?' He asked.

'Some of the other vampires – you'll meet them soon enough. I've been here all during your little nap.'

'Heh, how long was I out?'

'Six days.'

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his lip twitching. 'You call that a nap?'

'You're forgetting just how long I spent in that crypt. Even the lifespan of a normal man is short to me.'

'Right.' He breathed out, finding it strangely refreshing to do so – despite the fact that he was now a vampire. 'Why'd you stay?'

'Hm?'

'Stay here, with me?' He reiterated.

'Well between you and me, you're the only one I trust in this castle.'

Despair perked up. 'Really? I'm honoured.' He added playfully.

'Consider it – my father sees me for the first time in several ages and the first thing he asks about is his Elder Scroll. Adding to that, I imagine that most members of his court have spent the last few centuries licking his boot or trying to bite it off.'

'Fair enough then.' Despair placed his hands on the edge of his coffin and pulled himself out.

Now standing, Despair realized that he was still wearing his armour and Arch-Mage robes. It was good – dragon-make armour was expensive, it wouldn't have surprised him if they had stolen and pawned it, though to whom would be an interesting question. Not to mention the high value of the rest of his gear.

'I doubt you know – but you aren't the only one who was unconscious.' Serana said, observing his form.

'What?'

'My father fell down right after you.'

'Harkon? But he bit me, if anything he should have been stronger.' Despair stepped out of the coffin and faced Serana full on.

'True. And the bite did take – you are a vampire now – but no one knows what happened. He's still asleep and hasn't moved at all.'

'That's…strange.' Despair chose his words carefully.

_'Perhaps it is Sos Dovahkiin that cripples Sos Konahriik.'_ Alduin suggested from inside Despair's soul.

_Not a bad theory. Still, we'll keep it to ourselves. I doubt we'd survive long if they believed it's _my _fault that Harkon is in a coma._

As he communicated mentally his face tightened, frowning. Serana looked at him oddly; 'What are you doing?'

Despair looked up and locked eyes with her. 'What do you mean?'

_'Dovahkiin, do not forget that Sos Raan isnt aware of Dovahkiin Sos Dov.' _Alduin reminded his host.

_Dont call her an animal, Wyrm!_ Despair snapped back. Alduin went quiet at his master's behest.

'Anyway, it'd be good to meet the court now that you're awake.' Serana interrupted the mental exchange.

'…Yeah, you're right.' Despair looked at Serana, and then recalled that she still had his mask. 'Serana…can I have that back?'

She looked at it and smiled. 'What's the matter – you're afraid of letting the others see your face?'

'I like it on.' He reached for it, only for her to pull it away and step back from him.

'I like it off.'

'Serana…' He groaned.

'Fine, you can have it back if you tell me how you got it – it's radiating with power.'

He frowned, but conceded. 'Alright – is there anywhere to sit?'

She pointed over to a table in the corner of the room and both of them sat down. Serana set the mask down but kept her hand on it.

'When I was a student at Winterhold-'

'The Mages' College.' She confirmed.

'Yes. There was an incident involving a High Elf and a powerful artifact belonging to the wizard Magnus.' As he talked he held her attention, looking her in the eye.

'To resolve it, I went into Labyrinthian and retrieved another artifact to counteract it – Magnus' staff. There, I fought a powerful mage named Morokei – one of the Dragon Cult's Priests.'

'Dragon Priest!? I thought they died long ago, along with their Masters.' Serana said.

'They did. Morokei and the others are – or were – all Lich's. As for the dragons, they did die – and now they're back.'

'What!?' She almost shouted out.

'Yeah. Serana, just how old are you?' Despair asked.

'I told you, there wasn't the Empire of Cyrodil last I was awake.'

'That's not much to go on...' He deadpanned.

For a while they sat in silence, until he broke it by asking her a question.

'So, I'm a vampire now?'

'Yeah, feel any different?' She replied.

'Hm. Standing in the shadows seems more appealing than before, in fairness this isn't the first time I've been infected with Vampirism, but it's obvious that this strain is entirely different.'

Her eyes widened with the information. 'You were a vampire before?'

'Indeed, and a Werewolf after that – I'll tell you another time, I'm more interested in finding out how this strain is different.' He said, sensing that she was about to ask him to elaborate.

Serana sighed. 'Look, other than the fact that you are to normal vampires what the dragons were in my time – you aren't that much different. That and…well you saw what my father did in the court.'

Despair recalled the memory of the powerful Vampire Lord. 'Yes, though I suspect it isn't something you can easily pick up, is it?'

Serana became tight-lipped, looking at him oddly – as if she was contemplating a decision she had yet to make. Eventually she stood up from the table, sliding Morokei over to him and walking towards the door.

'Come on, we should have left for the court already.'

As she walked to the door – beckoning him to come – he watched her body as it moved, engrossed, until she turned. Hastily he got up and put the mask back on – looking at her as they stood by the door.

'Let's go.'

_**Harkon's Court, Castle Volkihar.**_

Together they entered the court, and almost immediately the pair was swarmed by vampires. Questions were raised about who Despair was, what had happened to Lord Harkon and all manner of subjects.

Both Serana and Despair were very annoyed.

Luckily she used her status as Harkon's daughter to send them away, and one by one they left until only one was left.

'Serana.' He said with a smile.

'Garan. How long as it been?' She replied, edging just a little closer to Despair, but talked with an air of authority.

'Too long my lady, the castle has sorely missed your presence.'

'Enough to lock me in an underground tomb?' She asked with approaching venom in her voice.

Garan stammered a little then saw Despair standing next to her – using him to divert the conversation.

'Ah and here is our youngest member. Tell me _boy, _what is your name?'

Despair almost punched him when Garan called him a "boy". Nonetheless he managed to respond confidently. 'Didn't you hear it when Harkon addressed me?'

'_Lord _Harkon. And no, I didn't quite catch it. Anyway – if you need anything come straight to me. You won't get anything done if you talk to Vingalmo or Orthjolf over there.' He indicated to the tall Nord and High Elf vampires who resided within the courtroom.

'They're too busy squabbling over who will succeed Lord Harkon.'

'And you aren't interested?' Despair asked.

'I am above the petty squabbles here. I have lived far too long to be bothered with them.' With that, he began to make his leave.

'Lady Serana, …'

'Despair.' Said Despair, filling in the gap and letting the vampire learn his name.

With those words Garan Marethi left the pair alone. They turned to each other – somewhat unsure of what to do now but neither wanted to deal with any of the other court members.

'Why don't you show me around the castle Serana?' Despair suggested.

'There isn't much to see, most of it seems worn down since I was last here.' She said matter-of-factly, though there seemed to be a hint of sadness in her words as though it was a shame that the castle had fallen into ruin.

'Very well then, why don't I show you what's happened in Skyrim since you were last awake? If I recall – _quite _a bit has changed.' He suggested again.

'Alright then. Show me everything.'

'As you wish, my lady.' He joked as he made his way to the door, earning him a punch on the arm from the seductive vampire.

Together they walked out of the castle and were immediately met by the frozen air of the north.

'Hey, the snowstorm's ended.' Despair said, looking out at the clear sea and ice floes.

'Yeah…it's been so long since I've seen this place; I forgot how pretty it can be.' Serana commented in response.

'It _is _pretty. I made the right choice; Dayspring Canyon is nowhere near as beautiful as this.' Despair's eyes calmly looked over the scenery, eventually finding himself looking at Serana, who noticed him and pouted.

'What?' She asked.

'Nothing, just admiring the beautiful scenery.'

She laughed, attempting to hide the light blush on her face. Anyone else would have been confused; Despair had a way with words – high speech skill in all likelihood – but coming from _that _mask would have been unnerving, Serana herself was a little creeped out by Morokei – she could only imagine what it must have been like to fight the creature who wore that face originally – Lich's were terrifying enough on their own.

_Still…I know what he looks like under it._ She thought slyly. That was more than enough to balance it.

Without warning Despair reached up to pull the mask off – letting his pale face feel the cold air of Volkihar's real estate. Even without looking he could tell that a light blush had risen on Serana's face. He put the mask away into the folds of his robes and continued to admire the scenery.

'Why'd you take it off, you made a fuss about having it on?' Serana asked.

'Well now that I'm technically dead I doubt that the cold will be a problem anymore. Besides…' He turned to her. 'There's no one around who I want to hide my face from.' He said with a smile.

In response Serana laughed and in mock-flattery said; 'I'm honoured, O great savior of mine.'

They bantered for a bit more, slowly returning to the silence.

Eventually, after both of them spending a bit of time watching the calm waves and the reflective blue ice – Serana spoke up.

'We should really get down to the mainland while the weathers this nice – being caught in a storm isn't fun in that small wooden boat.' She said.

'Right.' The Dragonborn begin to walk down to the edge of the bridge, stopping to wait for Serana when he reached the boat. 'My lady.' He bowed as she approached the small craft, earning a sigh and well-executed eye-roll.

They got in and set off, Despair using his Magicka reserves to power the boat rather than manually – he was a mage first, that's what he was best at. It was an hour of silence until they reached Skyrim's shores, the moment they landed Serana had jumped out in eagerness to catch up on her homeland, the one she hadn't seen for ages.

Despair docked the boat and chuckled lightly as she looked around, never straying too far from her companion. Eventually she turned around.

'Come on; show me this Skyrim that you know.' She said with a smile.

Despair walked up and together they walked further inland.

'Even with the dragons attacking…it still has beauty.' She said as she admired the mountains and snow.

'I would disagree, for every lovely tree there's some bandit or godforsaken draugr lurking around the corner.' Despair deadpanned.

'But that's part of the beauty.'

Their conversation was cut short by the haughty voice of a High Elf, clad in Elven Armour. 'Halt! Who goes there?' He raised his hand as he neared the two.

Despair leaned over and whispered in Serana's ear. 'I forgot to mention, there's occupation of Thalmor in a fort nearby to Icewater Jetty.'

'Thalmor?' She whispered back.

'Long story short, the High Elves got powerful; _really powerful._ Let me do the talking.' He straightened up just as the Elf got to them.

'Who are you two and what are you doing here?' He demanded in a voice that made the arrogant Vingalmo seem tolerable to Serana.

Despair smiled warmly at the Thalmor, though Serana could sense the ominous change of his tone. 'We're just adventurers, wondering the wilderness of Skyrim.'

'Really, and what business would a mere _adventurer _have in wearing the Arch-mage's Robes from that damnable college in Winterhold?' The Elf asked.

Despair didn't lose his composure – though his mind jumped, after all it wasn't often that he was recognized on his attire alone. Usually his enemies would be char-broiled before they came to that conclusion.

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers – a spark of electricity jumping between them. Before the Thalmor could react he was blasted away by a brilliant bolt of lightning – leaving a singing stain on the ground where he was standing before.

The body blasted away into the trees and hit something with a sickening crack, probably the fort he was guarding.

Immediately voices were heard shouting in the distance, Despair casually lowering his arm and "sheathing" the spell.

'Well.' Serana said as she turned to him. 'If that's how you deal with things that confront you – you aren't going to get very far.'

Despair smiled back somewhat sarcastically, as if he didn't know that – but he still retained his gentleness with the Volkihar's princess. 'You haven't seen how I deal with things yet, not even a little bit. Anyway, I think now might be a good time for you to teach me how to use that Vampire Lord power.'

Serana's face turned from snarky wit into a smile, like one a commander gives before sending elite soldiers to lay waste to a band of untrained militia.

'I almost feel sorry for them. I'll have your back, if you've been a Werewolf before then the changing part should come naturally.'

Despair looked forward eagerly; putting Morokei back on in the face of the coming skirmish. Crimson lights flashed in his eyes through the holes of the mask and created an eerie effect under the Arch-mage Robes' hood.

'Nothing easier.'


	2. Daynight

Hi all. Do review if you have the time ^_^ Tell me what you think, etc...

I do not own the Elder Scrolls or anything affiliated with it - only my own ideas.

* * *

Despair stood patiently, waiting for the Thalmor to reach him from Northwatch Keep. To his left, Serana began strafing into the tree line, ducking out of cover and flanking the approaching High Elves. A grin plastered The Dragonborn's face beneath Morokei, his canines lengthening further than the prior change upon receiving Harkon's gift.

Suddenly, the euphoric anticipation he expected with the transformation changed into agony. His bones broke independently and lengthened themselves within his skin – stretching the muscles forcefully. His skull grew inside his head – skin tearing like seams where it couldn't handle the strain.

This was _nothing_ like transforming into a Werewolf, this _hurt_.

Inwardly he screamed, unable to use his mouth as his own growing teeth speared his upper and lower jaws, within his mind the voice of Alduin called out.

_'Dovahkiin! What is happening!?'_

Despair grunted; blood pouring out of his eyes as he doubled over – barely catching the nearing gold glimmer of the Thalmor soldiers. _I don't know! It didn't look this painful for Harkon!_

_'Sos Konahriik has poisoned you!'_ The dragon declared.

_I don't think so…_ His hands hit the ground as he tried to hold himself up, claws sprouting from his fingers – tearing out of the skin. _…I would know, even with my mediocre Alchemy skill…_ A thick wad of blood blasted up from the Dovahkiin's throat and coated the inside of his mask, dripping slowly out onto the ground down the bottom.

Suddenly a new sensation joined, adding on to the pain of stretching bones and ripping flesh – two writhing worms in his back just below the shoulders – his skin crying out like the swollen belly of a host to insect parasites.

'You! On your feet!' A haughty voice called out.

Strangely enough the transformation hadn't stretched Despair's clothes out, as though they had adjusted to fit his new proportions. His Dragonscale Boots were now host to talons and his left-arm armour had shifted perfectly to match. The shroud on the Arch-mage's robes had hidden the size shift well, and from the perspective of the Thalmor surrounding Despair he was the normal size for a barbaric man, kneeling as he was.

'Stand now or suffer the consequences of denying the Thalmor!' The voice called again.

The twisted appendages under the hood that used to be Despair's ears heard nothing. Giving into the pain he tried to scream, only for his lungs to fill with an ocean of his own hemorrhaging blood. The struggling limbs in his back pushed for a final time, tearing free of his skin and bursting out.

Then suddenly it all ended. As though the wings breaking free were a switch, the pain suddenly stopped. With the end of agony came something else, a feeling that didn't rise or build within Despair, but simply replaced the grinding anguish.

_Power._ The haunting new appearance of The Dragonborn was hidden behind his mask and clothes, save for the jet black wings that rose over his back.

'Hey! Are you listening!?' One of the High Elves demanded, walking closer and prodding the kneeling figure with the tip of his Elven Sword.

Immediately Despair's entire body twitched, causing the soldier to jump back and join the circle with his comrades. All of them drew their weapons, a few holding spells in the palms of their hands. Slowly the being rose at their centre, rising to their height and then continuing to ascend.

The wide-eyed Thalmor watched as the creature – garbed in a mask and the robes of Winterhold's Arch-mage – rose higher than them. Only stopping when it was head and shoulders above the soldiers, hovering several inches above the snow-covered ground.

'_Dovahkiin – you have become Sos Konahriik,…Bruniik Vol Dovahkiin.'_ The proud voice of Alduin commented.

_No…I may have become an ignoble monster, but no savage horror am I._ Despair drew his mind back to the surrounding soldiers, that anticipated euphoria of power from before making its appearance.

'I…would have to apologize to you good soldiers.' A voice darker than the pits of Oblivion said. 'I haven't been treating you the way you deserve to be treated…these past few months I've been in Skyrim.'

Despair's head rose and stared directly at the soldier who had poked him. The Mer froze as the Dragon Priest mask looked right at him, glowing red eyes peering from their depths.

'…But now…now I truly can pay you in kind, for what you've done to the world.'

In an instant the floating creature shot forth and speared his clawed hand through the soldier's neck, all the way down to the shoulder. The Thalmor around him gasped, one brave soul charging with his sword raised; 'Die monster!'

Despair tore out of the first victim, dashing backwards in a float and creating distance.

'In my right hand…' He observed it, instantly aware of the properties that the glowing red orb held. He fired it at the lone soldier – a crimson cloud obscuring him and Despair suddenly feeling stronger, revitalized.

The Elf ran out and Despair fired another shot, bringing the soldier to his knees mid-run.

'…And in my left.' The eerie blue light was of a nature familiar to the proficient mage, Conjuration was one of his forte skills.

Gliding over he fell to the ground, instantly kicking the Mer under the jaw with his Dragonscale armoured talons, killing him. Before the soldier could fall Despair cast the reanimation spell at him, the still-warm corpse now loyal to the Vampire Lord.

The swarm of soldiers looked aghast as their ally charged towards them. Despair watched from a distance as they made short work of their once-friend.

_How amusing_. The Breton chuckled. When the soldiers refocused their attention to him he prepared himself by floating into the air once more when suddenly a flurry of Ice Spike's flew at them from the side and knocked several to their knees.

'Serana! What wonderful timing!' The Vampire Lord called out as the moonlight beauty barraged the Elves.

She called back to him; 'I assume you can make use of my father's gift?' Another shard of ice left her hand to break into the armoured head of an Elf.

_You have no idea._ He thought to himself, he'd tell her when he transformed back.

He shot himself forward, gliding swiftly off the ground and into the fray. With his claws Despair tore open the neck of one of the Thalmor, the woman clutching it futilely as she fell to the ground. One man to his left thrust a sword at him, only for Despair to lean back to avoid it. In response the Night-Child lunged his right hand at the man and grabbed his face. A look of terror was seen from between the long fingers before Despair fired the Drain Life right into it, killing the Elf instantly and taking his life for himself.

_'Dovahkiin! Behind you, Yol!' _The firstborn of Akatosh warned inside his mind.

Despair flapped his wings and shot to the side as a ball of fire just missed him, going where he just was. The magical projectile exploded on an unfortunate tree. The Vampire Lord glided out of the High Elf horde and turned back to it, firing Drain Life over and over. On the other side Serana pelted it with Ice Spike's, forcing the squad to put up shields and Ward Spells.

'Damn it! Who are these two!?' One of the Elves called out, separate from the others by wearing Thalmor Robes rather than Elven Armour.

'I don't know…Daedra!?' Another suggested.

'No, I think they're vampires! The local inferiors were complaining about a rise in vampire activity!' A third added.

'These two, on their own!?' The first Elf exclaimed. With a grunt aimed and fired a Lightning Bolt at the hovering demon, only for the spell to glance off like nothing. 'What!?'

Suddenly Despair stopped firing shots of Drain Life, seemingly exhausted of magicka.

'That's right, get that bastard!' The leader called out, dropping the Ward and leading a sword-drawn charge towards the monster.

The mask stared blankly at them as they approached, the hovering form standing still and waiting for them, almost mockingly

Suddenly the black wings on Despair's back shot out, creating a shockwave that blew away the snow near him and staggered several of the High Elf agents. Large and black, covered with cruel looking claws and much larger than the wings of any past Vampire Lord, they extended intimidatingly and stretching to full length. Serana managed to see the action as it happened and her eyes went wide at the sight of Despair's wings.

_They're black…and so large…_ She thought. Vampire Lords like her father never had wings _that_ big. _He's not going to…surely…_Her train of thought could never quite finish as she jumped from one idea to another.

Despair began to flap his wings, picking up slowly from the ground and rising even higher than the hovering Blood Magic had permitted him. Just as the Thalmor group reached him he got out of reach and began to slowly move around with each heavy beat.

'It's…flying…?' Serana's sharp ears heard one of the Thalmor say in shock.

_I don't…believe it._ The Volkihar Princess was astounded.

Despair's flight path began to pick up speed as The Dragonborn began to soar. He first continued to rise higher, seeing how far up he could go. Satisfied when the people on the ground were naught more than specks he descended and began circling them.

'Hahahaha! Alduin, is this your doing!?' He shouted in the face of the newfound abilities, too high up and moving too fast to worry about anyone talking to his inner World-Eater.

_'Niid Dovahkiin, a Joor flying…Vanmindoraan.'_ The ancient dragon answered, as confused as his host.

'I don't care! Let's see what we can do with this!' He grinned madly down at his prey, hidden by the stoic face of Morokei.

Swooping down he lunged at one of the Thalmor soldiers, gripping the Elf by the shoulders with his feet-talons and lifting him into the sky – only to throw him down and kill him.

'Hahahahahahaha!' Rising up and stopping in mid-air, hovering in one place just the same way as Skyrim's scaly fire-breathing blights did. Despair looked down, taking in the satisfaction of the fear in the High Elves' faces and the wonder in Serana's – taking extra time to look at her reaction.

Despair sped up his wing beat and launched himself back down to the ground, leading with his head the same way that Akatosh's children did in flight. Rather than swooping down on the group of enemies however, he quickly twisted so as to land on his feet and crunched into the ground, skidding through the group.

Grinning behind the mask, Despair grabbed the last Thalmor he passed in his slide by the head and smashed him against a passing tree. A sick **crunch **accompanied the bloody splatter that painted the white snow red.

Eventually though, the Elves got over their shock at a _flying _human and recomposed themselves.

'Archers!' The leader called out, several soldiers behind him conjuring Bound Bows at his command.

'Fire at will!' He shouted at his men behind him. However, for every arrow fired in the volley at the Arch-mage monster he seemed to remember that he had twice as many soldiers… Turning around he witnessed that half of his forces now lay dead in the snow, with several shards of ice protruding from each body.

His eyes snapped to the other vampire, the girl who had slaughtered the men. The Thalmor Wizard – the Captain – charged a Fireball in his hand and aimed it at Serana. He was about to fire when suddenly he was picked up off the ground by clawed hands and carried high into the air.

'You're the commanding officer?' The dark, cruel voice of the Vampire Lord Despair asked through the howling winds as he flew up. The Elf scowled up from under his hood, and Despair didn't wait for an answer.

Serana watched as again Despair took to the skies, carrying the Thalmor off. She was in awe – no Vampire Lord before had ever been able to _fly_, let alone with such proficiency. But there was something off about his transformation.

_Most tear off their clothes when they transform, even me – barely anything is left. But Despair…he's still fully clad in the robes and mask and his armour is fully intact. More than that though, his wings look…_ Despair's wings were not the pale grey of other Vampire Lords. They lacked the brittle look of skin stretched over bone – they actually had muscle, and they were far fuller than normal. They deep black colour also set his apart, as did the cruel talons adorning them.

_…they almost look like-_

A piercing sky interrupted her thoughts, filling the air with a roar that sent fear into even the hardiest of creatures – including Serana's father.

'Dra-gon!' One of the still-alive soldiers called out, her allies looking to the sky.

The hulking beast of legend tore out of cloud cover and into the battle – puking rich flames onto the crowd of Elves and roasting flesh, the snow evaporating into steam for several metres around. Having killed the entire platoon that Serana and Despair had failed to put down for all their time fighting, it rose upwards to engage the masked vampire and Thalmor Captain.

_Damn it! A dragon!_ Despair thought.

_'Geh, Dovahkiin. How astute of you to notice.'_ The elder dragon replied.

_Quiet, Wyrm! I didn't ask for your input!_ With a grunt Despair threw the Elven Captain to the ground and tore off in the other direction, narrowly avoiding a **CHOMP** from the bigger beast.

Despair rose upward – the large reptile chasing after him. A sharp flap shot him higher in an airborne sprint – putting remarkable distance between he and the dragon. A shot of flame narrowly missed the Vampire Lord, the heat causing Despair to cringe in pain – it hurt worse than it had ever before. Suddenly he twisted mid-flight and turned down, flying towards the dragon. An orange glow from its jaws told Despair of another breath of fire – and he shanked to the side to avoid it.

_I need to get it on the ground!_

_'Dragonrend; Dovahkiin.'_ Alduin suggested helpfully.

_I know!_

Barely avoiding the gout of flame Despair flew dangerously close to the dragon as he passed it. Continuing down he willed the form of the Vampire Lord to be gone. Oddly painlessly – in comparison to the transformation _into _the form – the wings, claws and extra mass of the Vampire Lord seemed to flake off into smoke – rather than everything shrinking back in. By the time the de-transformation ended, Despair had hit the ground and was rising to his feet from the impact. Done with the quick body change he looked up to see the dragon turning back towards him – speeding down.

_It's going to crash into me?_

Nearing the smaller prey the dragon shot out a small burst of fire – but instead of shooting towards Despair the monster flew through it; cloaking itself in its own flames.

_Shit!_

He leapt to the side and into a bank of snow – just in time to avoid the explosion of fire as the dragon hit the ground. As Despair got out of the snow bank, he saw the dragon twisting and turning its body around so as to get stable. The beast was on its back which gave Despair enough time to set up his magical buffers.

He swung his hands outward to begin with two Conjuration spells – summoning a couple of Dremora Lords to his side. In the next instant he covered himself with an Alteration armour spell; Ironflesh – and Lightning Cloak from the Destruction school. Finishing the ensemble he flicked another Conjuration spell into his hand. Summoning a long shaft into his hand and assuming a fighting position he faced the dragon.

'Bound Scythe.' He muttered to himself.

Charging in a trio with his Dremora Despair reached the dragon just as the monster was on its belly – ready to fight on the ground. A grin rose on Despair's face behind Morokei and he whirled the Bound Scythe in his hand.

The monster lunged with its head and tried to bite Despair – one of the Dremora Lord's jumping into the way and protecting its master.

'I honour my lord, by destroying you!' The Daedra forced the dragon back with its sword, pushing it down with unnatural strength.

To the left of the monster the second Dremora Lord swung its sword into the dragon's neck and tore open a large gash. And again. The dragon roared in pain at the searing cuts – suddenly lifting the Dremora at the front into the air and biting down on its legs. Even as it fell down the ancient Tamrielic monsters throat the Daedra hacked at its face. In the next second the dragon brought its neck smashing into the remaining Dremora Lord and flicked it away – killing it.

Bloody and angry the dragon finally turned its face to Despair, snarling.

**'Tiid! Klo! Ul!'** Despair shouted, time slowing down to his will.

He rushed forth and swung the Bound Scythe horizontally – carving a red line into its snout. Time wasn't fast enough to grant the dragon the luxury of even flinching before Despair's second strike – another slicing arc down its nose. Twirling the polearm behind his back Despair brought another savage strike in a wide arc into the dragon's snout. The Dragonborn rose the harvesting weapon over his head for the final strike down when suddenly time restarted and the dragon rammed him with the front of its nose.

'Guh!' He grunted as he was knocked over.

Smoke trailed from the injured dragon's jaws. Its eyes glared down as it readied a point-blank blast of fire - certain to kill the vampire. In a desperate gambit Despair ditched the Bound Scythe and conjured another pair of Dremora Lords. Instantly after the summon a pillar of flame shot out at Despair – barely avoiding it behind the stiff body-shield of the flame-resistant Daedra. It still hurt however, worse than it ever had before in his time in Skyrim.

_I can't…breathe…_ He choked.

The wave of fire kept coming – strain showing from the Dremora. Despair watched as their bodies shook under the heat, in danger of collapsing any moment.

Suddenly it stopped – just as the Dremora Lord's went back to Oblivion –the anguished roar of the dragon filled the world. Looking up Despair saw several long shards of ice embedded in the left side of its face. More icy missiles were shot into it and Despair witnessed Serana firing the Destruction magic at it.

'Yes! Keep going Serana!' He called out. This was it; this was the chance he needed.

Re-conjuring the Bound Scythe Despair charged forth and jumped into a slide along the ground. Skidding along he came closer and closer to his target and just as he came under its head he swung up – cleaving through its jaw.

'GRRAAAAOAOOOOOOHHH!' The pained roar of the dying beast shook the earth – but then the gigantic body fell and silenced.

Slowly Despair got up from under the corpse, letting the Bound Scythe disappear as he rose to his feet. Looking around he searched for his savior – seeing her several metres away, staring wide-eyed. Behind him the corpse of the dragon began to glow, burning itself down to the bone. As she watched him approach her slowly – a bright, grand power began to flow out of the dragon's husk and into Despair.

'I don't…believe it…' She gaped in awe.

Reaching up he pulled his mask off and put it away – the fight over – and revealed a sardonic smirk. When he reached her they stood quite close, neither saying a word. Serana closed and opened her mouth, as if about to say something but not quite getting the words out. Eventually she started; '…You-'

'Hold it! By the authority of the Aldmeri Dominion I place you both under arrest!' A voice said, interrupting her.

Both vampires turned to see the High Elf Captain – dressed in Thalmor Robes – glaring at them from several metres away. From the looks of it he hadn't fared too well through the battle – the lower half of his robes were torn and he had several small scratches on his face. Somehow though he had managed to survive Despair and Serana's attacks and the fall that Despair had dropped him from when the dragon showed up. Nevertheless, the way they both looked at him suggested they were wondering; _How in Oblivion are you still alive!?_

Despair frowned and took a step towards the Elf, not before promptly collapsing and falling into the snow. Serana immediately leapt to his aid, kneeling down beside him and turning him on his back.

'Come with me!' The Thalmor Captain called.

Serana deadpanned at him and charged Ice Spike spells in her hands. 'You and whose army?'

Frowning the Elf began to approach them, before Serana snarled bestially and he flinched. He slowly stepped back, turning into a full, running retreat from the she-vampire and her collapsed companion.

'The Thalmor shall remember this! The name of Ancanor shall be the last you ever hear, I swear it!' He shouted, disappearing over the hills.

With him gone Serana refocused her attention to her fallen ally. '…Despair?'

* * *

_'Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin.'_ Alduin's voice lifted The Dragonborn from slumber, looking down at the rising Breton. The inner world was no longer the infinite Darkness from earlier – Despair's draconic soul having come to terms with the vampiric blood. Now it resembled a mountainous plane that Despair and Alduin resided on the tallest peak on – similar to that of the Throat of the World. Indeed, the inner world of The Dragonborn much mirrored the world of Skyrim; his homeland. Despair lifted himself to his feet and looked up at Alduin.

'Huh…what happened? I usually only fall unconscious for a significant reason…' Despair rubbed his head, groaning.

_'Geh Dovahkiin, and you are still unconscious…I imagine Grah Krongrah was the cause.'_ Alduin said.

'Exhaustion? Fair enough…I did black out the first time I turned Werewolf too…' Despair opened his eyes fully and regarded the black dragon. 'But there was the other thing…'

_'Geh. Bo Joor – a mortal flew.' _Alduin kept observing his container.

'Yes, and that fire…that was like nothing I'd ever experienced before…it still hurts to remember it.' Despair cringed.

_'I imagine that that was a case of your new…Kopraan – body, Sos Vokul – the form you call; Vampire Lord – ask the Sos Konahriik, she shall know more.'_

'Right.' Despair nodded.

_'However Dovahkiin…I do not know how a Joor such as yourself could fly…'_ Alduin mused, taking time to speak. _'Only the Dovah - immortal's, possess the capacity among sentient beings to fly.'_

'Hey don't forget, I have the soul of a dragon – mine is just as immortal as yours.' Despair jerked a thumb at his chest, indicating himself.

_'Krosis Dovahkiin, I am aware. But you are within Joor Kopraan, that is what separates you from us Dov.'_ Alduin argued.

Silence descended upon the pair for a few moments before Despair suddenly spoke up. 'Wait Alduin – I'm a vampire now – my body is undead; immortal!' He said excitedly.

Alduin looked peculiarly at him, perplexed by the smaller creature's logic.

'I don't have the body of a mortal any more – I'm an immortal vampire. So with the soul and body of immortals – I should be able to fly like the Dovah.' He summarized, as Alduin processed this Despair continued. 'And the Vampire Lord form gives me wings – the wings of a dragon! It's only natural that I can fly now!'

As Despair finished his words a low rumble began to emanate from the black, spiked dragon. It rose into a laugh – something deep and cruel and completely uncharacteristic of the new Alduin since he and Despair had become one. As though his laugh was still from the ancient, oppressor of man that he used to be.

_'Very good! Dovahkiin!'_ He continued to laugh, beating his wings slightly. _'I shall enjoy watching you from now on!'_ He looked down, apparently smiling. _'Go! Return to Mundus, Tiid Unslaad, Dovahkiin!'_

With Alduin's farewell the inner world began to fade before Despair's eyes and the next time he blinked he found himself back in the mortal world of Skyrim.

* * *

'Uuggghhh…' Despair moaned, discovering that he was lying down on something hard.

'Despair!' He heard a voice call, immediately he snapped awake and sat up – seeing Serana sitting by his side on a rock. Looking into her eyes he confirmed that he was indeed, awake. He looked around their surroundings – they were inside a small cave; barely more than a rocky overhang. It was dark, probably in the early hours of the morning. He took a deep breath and smelled the air – the scent he recognized as Hjaalmarch, and something salty.

'Where are we?' He asked Serana.

'Outside Solitude.' She pointed out over a river that was next to their little base. 'See, that's the docks on the other side.'

He looked out to the familiar site of the Solitude Docks, several ships resting in its confines. 'I see.' He turned back to Serana, swinging his legs down off of his resting place – which was discovered to be a cot. 'What happened?'

'I carried you here from where you fell down. I didn't want to risk staying in a city or fortress in case something happened. And this seems safe enough from wild animals.' She said.

'I see…and what about the Thalmor?'

'I…You collapsed just as you tried to attack the Altmer.' She said, referring to the Thalmor Captain from earlier – Ancanor. 'I chased him away, don't worry. He said his name was…Ancanor.' She looked strangely at him. 'A friend of yours?'

Despair chuckled. 'Not a name I'm familiar with...I know an "Ancan-O" but...' He sighed, then continued talking. ' – I could ask Elenwen, but even with Skyrim under Imperial control – and therefore Thalmor control – I doubt she'd entertain my audience.' He rose up, shakily – until he stood. 'I think it was just battle exhaustion.'

'Yeah, usually people don't collapse after their first transformation into the Vampire Lord, but you stressed yours quite hard.' She stood up to his height then pushed him back down to sit. 'There's no need to get up, we aren't going anywhere.'

He let out a sharp draw of breath and sighed. Once again he found himself looking into her eyes, letting lost in the orange glow that seemed warm compared to other vampires. He kept staring for a while, not noticing her facial expressions shift oddly.

'Are you…alright?' She asked. 'You've been looking at me for a while.'

'Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry.' Suddenly his eyes brightened. 'Oh yes, I wanted to ask you something – do vampires have a lowered resistance to fire?'

'Yeah, one of the many drawbacks of our "gift", as father calls it.'

'You don't like being a vampire?' Despair asked.

'I do, but there are things to consider that are wrong about it...' She seemed to trail off at the end and descended into silence. Despair took the hint and stopped talking when suddenly she spoke up again.

'I think you have something to answer for me though.' She said the words ominously, knowing that he would know what she was referring to without mentioning it. 'I've never seen a Vampire Lord fly, nor kill a dragon.'

'Ah…_that_.' Despair grimaced and rested his head on his knuckles. His eyes swiveled in their sockets to look up at her. 'I'm Dragonborn.'

Silence filled the air with the sharpness of a whip-crack. Her expression turned to one of awe, understanding and shock all at once. 'D-Dragonborn…?'

'Yeah…someone I once met called me; "The One They Fear". I can only assume he was referring to the dragons.' Despair stretched out, leaning back into the cot. 'I slay dragons, but that's not all I can do.'

'I know about Dragonborn's eating the souls of dead dragons…and that they are the ultimate dragonslayer. But to actually meet one…' She paused and turned to his lying form. 'You're sure, right?'

'Haha, I've been certain for a long time. You remember that light after we slew the dragon back then? That was its soul.' He said. He shut his eyes and breathed out sharply again. 'As for the flying…Alduin and I think it-'

'Wait, Alduin!?' She burst out. 'The; "World-Eater" Alduin!?'

He chuckled again. 'Yeah. Instead of just absorbing his soul In Sovngarde I managed to get his consciousness as well – he's actually quite wise when he isn't eating the souls of Nord dead.' He waited for a response to this, but frowned when there wasn't one and lifted his head to look at Serana. She looked suddenly downcast, mournfully fixated on the ground.

He prompted her to tell him what was wrong. When she answered she said; 'You've been on so many adventures, I…I've missed out on so much.' Her words dropped at the end of her sentence and she breathed out, when suddenly she felt his hand slip into hers.

'I intend to have many more in this wondrous land, and you're more than welcome to join me.' He said with a smile.

She smiled back at him – uplifted, and tightened her hand around his, holding it firmly. 'Thank you Despair.'

'It's the very least I can do for _my savior_.' He laughed sarcastically. She blinked, confused – until she realized what he was referring to. She lightly punched him on the arm. 'In all honesty,' He continued. 'I've never seen someone pelt a dragon with so much ice…including myself.'

'Don't be so arrogant, people can't so casually use magic like you pretend to.' Serana quipped.

Despair leaned back. 'You have no idea what I can do…' He muttered.

'So anyway,' She poked him. 'How did you fly?'

'Dragonborn's possess an immortal soul, but a mortal body. In my case I now have the immortal body of a vampire. When dragons fly it's more than just the beating of their wings – it's an expression of their immortality; which is why I can use certain Shouts to bring them to the ground by making them understand mortality. Now that I am both immortal in body and soul, I can fly just like my scaly counterparts – all I need is wings – which the Vampire Lord provides me with.'

She went quiet, taking a bit of time to understand the concept. Despair could feel fatigue slowly creep up on him as he lay in silence. As it turned out – vampires either needed blood or sleep to continue functioning. Despair was more than happy to let his still-aching bones rest when suddenly his throat closed; dry.

'G-aack!' He gasped for air, rising out of the cot.

'Despair…?' Serana's voice called out. He felt his body seize up and he forced himself up to his feet. Staggering, he made his way over to the water's edge nearby and kneeled down to drink. After several gulps of the salty water he spluttered, coughing it out and wheezing.

'Shit, you haven't fed since you transformed have you?' Serana ran over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. Without hesitation she pulled her sleeve up and pushed her wrist into his mouth. A moment later she felt his canines pierce into her skin and sink down, forcing her to cry out in pain. She felt a draining sensation as he began to drink, sating himself on her blood.

Despair's mind reeled at first when he saw Serana expose the bare, pale flesh of her arm and offer it to him – but his body acted. Biting down and drinking his first blood as a vampire he began to ward off the instinctive hunger that came with the condition. But as he drank, he realized something. More than this being like water to a parched tongue, Serana's blood held something that captured Despair.

It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted, and it took all of his willpower to break himself off from her arm.

Panting heavily he looked at the ground, the delicious fluid he had extracted from her still in his mouth. Swallowing he felt ecstasy as the remnants ran down his throat. Pleasure came off when he licked his lips, addicted to the sweet nectar. Then he regained his senses.

Looking up at her. '…Serana…I…'

'Don't worry about it; the amount you took is nothing to a vampire of my bloodline. Besides, you needed it more than me.' She shook out her arm and pulled the sleeve back over. 'Don't forget about feeding in the future though.'

'Y-yeah…' He regained composure of his breathing and stood up. 'How long can I go without…that...happening again?' He asked.

'Most vampires go around four to five days, you've almost gone twice that long since becoming a vampire – granted you were asleep for most of that time.' Serana replied.

'I see…and yourself?' His voice hinted at subtle concern. 'I imagine that several eons in a crypt didn't do you any good.'

'I fed before we left the castle. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself.'

'I don't doubt it.'

Together they walked back to the small camp under the rocky overhang. By the time they had gotten back though, day was breaking over the horizon. Despair was already wearing his hood – courtesy of the Arch-mage robes – but the moment that rays of light began to hit the land Serana drew her hood up, hiding her porcelain face in shadow.

'I don't think it'd be a good idea to stay here all day.' Serana suggested.

'I agree. I said that I was going to show you Skyrim, and I can't show you it from here.' Despair said. 'You're alright to walk out in the sun?'

'Yes I'll be fine.'

They left the little camp and began heading south-east. Whiterun was the first place Despair wanted to show Serana – being the first city he had seen himself. They hadn't gone more than ten metres when Despair suddenly stopped and whistled, standing there looking oddly pleased with himself. When Serana was about to ask what in Oblivion he was smirking about she then heard the sounds of approaching hooves. Looking in the direction of the sound, she saw a great black steed race towards them – glowing red eyes glaring at them.

'Serana, behold Shadowmere.' Despair said as he grabbed the horse by the reins and in one fluid motion – swung himself up onto the horses back from the ground without the beast slowing.

She watched as Despair commanded the horse to circle around and slow down, bringing Shadowmere next to Serana. He leaned down to her and extended his hand, offering it.

'My lady.'

She smirked and took it, letting him pull her up and have her sit behind him.

'Shall we?'

* * *

Now...do your best not to lecture me on the dangers of Mary Sue characters - Despair is supposed to be a character who is the best of the best at what he does - namely; being an entity in Skyrim. Yes, he can fly - yes there is a legitimate reason for _why_ he can if you read it you'll know what I'm referring to - and it's more than just "Vampire Lord's have wings therefore flying is an option".

As for the Bound Scythe thing...I dont like the limited availability of Bound Weapons in-game or just the limited ability of weapons in general. So I'm going to play around a little with extra assortments of weapons; scythes, spears, etc...

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Leave a review.

Cheers.


	3. The Old and New

Hiya, I've been getting into my Skyrim fanfiction more recently so yeah. Blah blah review, enjoy the chapter, etc...

I do not own anything affiliated with the Elder Scrolls other than my own ideas.

* * *

Several hours of riding had taken Despair and Serana passed Morthal and through the entire Hold, having entered Whiterun Hold a while ago and the walls of the eponymous city just in the distance. It amused the male how every sight and sound was new to the woman clinging to his back. Every species of creature that he had already seen and probably killed at some point was something for her to marvel at and inevitably make a sound like a toddler with a new toy. He didn't mind it though – in fact he would reluctantly admit that it was cute how she would let out a little gasp every time she saw something.

Eventually though they arrived at the gates of Whiterun, dismounting Shadowmere outside the stables and walking the rest of the way on foot.

'…So you ended the civil war?' Serana asked her thousandth question that day.

'Yes.'

'And you've actually been to Sovngarde?'

'Yes.'

'And you've met a Daedric Prince, in person?'

'Several, though Nocturnal is a favourite in that regard.' Despair waved hello at a guard as he passed over the drawbridge, the guard nodding in return and taking note of Serana.

'Whose your friend, Thane?' The guard asked, cutting Serana off mid-question.

'She's…an old friend.' Despair answered, continuing until he faced the large gates to the inside of the city.

Serana's animated question-asking dropped when Despair used the word "old" to describe her. He glanced over and smiled, only to get slapped in the face. All at once the guards of the Hold drew their swords and advanced on her, circling around her and the staggering Thane of Whiterun.

'Easy men, it was just a joke.' He held his hands up and warded the guards off, waiting for them the back down and return to their posts. As Despair straightened back up he turned back to Serana and smiled, this time more apologetically.

'It wasn't a funny joke.' Serana said.

'It was a little funny…' Despair decided to drop it as he came right up to the gates. Instead of pushing it open however, he simply waved his arm at it. Magicka channeled from Despair's body into the air and the gates slowly shuddered open, permitting passage for the two wolves in sheep's clothing.

'Welcome to Whiterun.' Despair quietly said to Serana.

As the pair walked into the city Serana managed to keep her composure in check – calmly walking at Despair's side as he led her into the city. To their right was a smoldering forge, and dark-skinned Imperial woman working at it. To the left was a welcoming inn with a banner outside saying; "The Drunk Huntsman", and a path leading to a higher part of the city. As they kept walking they passed several guards and townsfolk, some of whom said a quick greeting to Despair. They entered a circular section with three buildings around it and several stalls set up, selling things. Suddenly Serana heard a voice say something to Despair, and turned to see a richly dressed man with dark skin standing in front of her savior – the latter scowling murderously at the man.

'Do you get to the cloud district very often? What am I saying, of course you don't.'

Serana could almost hear Despair's teeth grind from where she was standing.

With a startlingly sudden motion Despair kept walking and led Serana up some stairs, deeper into the city.

'…One day…one day I will turn that man into a puddle of blood and piss…' Despair growled sinisterly, only Serana hearing it.

Eventually after touring around the city and showing her who, where and what resided within the city, Despair led Serana up to Dragonsreach – introducing her to Jarl Balgruuf.

'My Jarl, I'd like you to meet someone – a friend of mine.' Despair bowed a little before the seated man, lord of Whiterun Hold.

'And who is this you've brought to my court?' The Jarl asked, an open but careful air around him.

'My name is Serana, sir. It's…a pleasure to be in your city.' She said, her voice neither warm nor cold.

'Please don't stand by the pleasantries, any friend of Despair's is a friend to all Whiterun – and besides, I simply don't have time these days – what with all the problems running around.' The Jarl leaned into his chair and sighed.

'Problems?' Despair asked. 'I thought I already killed Alduin and stopped the Stormcloaks.'

'Pah! Don't be so conceited Despair, you aren't as great as you say.'

'Everyone keeps telling me that, I don't know why-!'

'Enough!' Balgruuf cut off the arrogant, protesting Dragonborn. 'There are vampires running amok over my lands, and strange folk wandering about.' At the mention of "vampires" Serana stiffened, luckily no one noticed. Despair too stopped his irritating I'm-all-powerful act and became serious.

'What do you mean; vampires?' Despair asked.

'They're growing in numbers, killing and pillaging my lands – and not just Whiterun, Jarl Elisif tells me the same, and all the other Jarl's!' Balgruuf weighed his head in his hands, looking up at Despair and Serana through interlocked fingers. 'If you can help stop these killings, I'll make it worth your while Despair.'

Despair grinned. 'My lord, I serve the hold – not the coin. I'm wealthy enough as it is.'

'Great. Now get out, I don't want to see you again unless it's with a bag of those bloodsuckers' heads'!' Balgruuf's temper began to rise – and Despair bid farewell, making his retreat.

As soon as he and Serana left the palace they began to discuss the vampire issue.

'I assume that Harkon sent these vampires out before I knocked him into a coma with my blood.' Despair said.

'Yeah, I don't know what they were looking for though.' Serana said.

'He seemed pretty excited when you came back with en Elder Scroll, think that might have something to do with it?'

'You think my father's looking for Elder Scrolls? I wouldn't put it past him – but where would he start?'

'With you.' Despair stopped their walk as they reached the Gildergreen at the centre of Whiterun's cloud district. 'You had an Elder Scroll. But that still doesn't answer _why_ he's looking for them.'

'My father always talked about a prophecy, something about ending the Tyranny of the Sun.' Serana suggested.

Despair froze for a second, his ears twitching. He turned his head towards Serana and spoke. 'Could you repeat that please?'

'Tyranny of the Sun. He believed he could stop the sun from functioning and put the world into perpetual darkness, I guess he still does believe that too.' She shrugged. 'Would be a paradise for our kind wouldn't it?'

Despair ignored the last little comment and suddenly started walking again – fast. Serana had to jog to keep up with him, but before long they were back outside the city. Despair whistled for Shadowmere, waiting for his black steed.

'Despair, where are we going?' Serana asked, confused at his sudden actions.

'Castle Volkihar.' He said as he climbed atop his horses back, and then pulled Serana up with him. 'At the very least I'm going to try and stop the vampires from attacking everything in sight – I'll spearhead the search for the Elder Scroll myself.' He snapped the reins and sent Shadowmere galloping.

'But we don't even know if he is looking for Elder Scroll's!' She shouted over the wind as Shadowmere raced across the land.

'Then we'll ask! I'm not going to let something as big as a prophecy about ending _the sun_ slip by me!'

'And what makes you think you can even find Elder Scroll's!?'

'I've already found two since coming to Skyrim, I think I can find a third!'

'Two?'

'The one that was with you, and one I found that helped me defeat Alduin!' Despair suddenly whipped at Shadowmere's reigns viciously, sending the horse into a speeding frenzy and forcing Serana to wrap her arms around The Dragonborn tightly. Like a macabre wind they travelled across Skyrim, swiftly returning to Icewater Jetty.

Leaping from the saddle Despair grabbed the land-stranded boat and pushed it out onto the water. He waited patiently for Serana to join him beside the boat, helping her in. As soon as he sat down the boat began to move on its own – by the power of Despair's will and Magicka. Less than an hour – closer to half – passed before the pair reached Volkihar, Despair hastily stepping out the moment the boat hit the shores.

'Despair, wait! Why are you so riled up about this Elder Scroll issue?' She asked, concerned in the face of his fast and sudden actions.

He stopped. 'The last time someone used an Elder Scroll for their own means; a dragon destined to swallow the world was sent forth in time. The ancient Nordic heroes of old had their reasons – fully legitimate or not – but I won't let someone else fuck with the world because of an Elder Scroll!' He spun – his robes whipping around him – and Serana saw his eyes glowing a hateful red.

It frightened her.

His confident veil dropped at that moment, revealing the man beneath. The arrogant, snarky and witful side of Despair that Serana had witnessed up until now was as much of the man as any aspect of the personality. However, the side that had been released momentarily before her eyes when that veil slipped was a wrathful one, pragmatically cruel at best and outright sadistic at worst. The red glint in his eyes flickered and dimmed; returning to normal. As he saw her frightened and shocked expression he was taken aback.

'Serana…I…' He approached her. 'I'm sorry…'

'It's fine, everyone has their little vendetta's with the world. At least you're honest about it, and apologetic to boot. Several of the vampires in there wouldn't even think to feel remorse for anything.' She indicated at the castle, referring to the denizens within.

He smiled at her, and she did too. Slowly she began to raise her hand, intending to touch his face – but he misread it and took her hand, pulling her into the castle with him. By the time they had gotten to the end of the bridge he had let go – though neither really wanted that, there was an unspoken mutual agreement about the implications of a new vampire and the daughter of Volkihar's lord palling about.

Before entering he reached into his robes and pulled the mask of Morokei out again, fitting it under his hood and on his face. The citizens of Whiterun could know who he was, and passing travellers or bandits wouldn't bat an eye before continuing on their way or being killed – respectively. However the vampires of Volkihar were a different matter; Despair's allies but also selfish creatures in their own right – he would hide his face behind the mask while with them, with the special exception of Serana.

Despair opened the doors with Magicka and entered, joining the Volkihar court in the main hall. Their entrance was unexpected and several vampires looked up in surprise as he and Serana walked down the stairs.

'Garan. Where is Garan Marethi?' Despair asked the court.

'Here.' A voice answered from one of the many cast shadows and with it skulked out the Dunmer vampire from the right-hand corner of the room, near Harkon's throne at the back.

'Garan.' Despair quickly walked over to him, Serana following closely behind and all the other vampires only pretending not to listen in. 'What was Harkon's last order before he…before he became unreceptive?' Despair asked.

'_Lord_ Harkon.' The man corrected him. 'And it was to spread fear and discord amongst the people in Skyrim, simple as that.'

'Nothing else?' The Dragonborn pressed for answers.

'No…well there was something else he told me, but I don't think he would want to reveal it without him being awake…'

Despair frowned. That must certainly be it – the Elder Scroll issue, but he couldn't ask Garan here – not in front of the rest of the court.

'Garan, as Harkon's daughter and a member of the ruling bloodline I command you to reveal to us the other part of information.' Serana stepped in, powerful and commanding.

'I-Lady Serana-but-' He stuttered, looking from her to Despair to the rest of the vampires.

'Garan.' She pressed.

'Very well. Come with me.' He sighed, walking up the stairs to a more private area.

As they walked together away from the court Despair leaned over to Serana. 'That was impressive.'

'Thanks. But I don't like using my father's name to get what I want, it feels…wrong, somehow.'

'Well don't do it if you don't feel comfortable with it…but it was good of you to back there.'

Serana smiled. 'I aim to please.'

Eventually the trio made it to a secluded part of the castle – where the only ones listening were spiders. 'Harkon discussed a _prophecy_ of sorts with me, telling me of its significance to our kind.' Garan began. 'He didn't tell me the full details…but it was important.' He stopped, turning to the two other vampires. 'One thing he mentioned was an Elder Scroll.' He looked at Serana, waiting for a sign that she was pleased as the lady of the house, however it was Despair who reacted.

'And what did he want with the scroll!?'

'I don't know…read it I assume, though I doubt even our lord possesses the capacity to read Elder Scrolls. In any case this information may be long outdated, as Lady Serana did return with an Elder Scroll – which may be the one he seeks.'

'No, my father did need my Scroll but he was always insistent about another one – one he didn't have.' Serana countered.

'Whatever the case, My Lady – the fact is that no one here can read an Elder Scroll and that there may or may not be another one that our Lord desires.' Garan stated ambivalently. He began to leave the pair to their own devices when Despair stopped him.

'Harkon doesn't have a method to read Elder Scrolls but he still wants them? You're hiding something from us Garan.'

Garan looked from Despair to Serana and back to the masked mage, a slightly fearful expression on his face. 'Fine.' He said, deflatedly. 'Harkon had plans to kidnap a Moth Priest and have him read the scroll – though without our Lord I can't imagine the prophecy being fulfilled at all.' With that he turned and left, going back to the court and leaving the two on their own.

'…And he didn't even say goodbye...' Despair commented.

'A Moth Priest...' Serana repeated the phrase. 'Where would we find one?'

'Don't know – I heard from someone that they're based in Cyrodil, but they might travel around. If we're lucky there might be one in Skyrim.' Despair sounded hopeful.

'Well in light of recent events…' Serana looked to Despair, hoping he'd catch on. 'You said you found _two _Elder Scrolls, didn't you.'

'Oh yeah, you think that they may have already attracted a Moth Priest to Skyrim?' Despair asked.

'That depends, how many people know about it?' Serana asked.

'The College of Winterhold has it for safekeeping; we might wanna look there first – of course picking up my scroll as well.' Despair finished.

Together they left Volkihar – set on a destination and after Despair had negotiated with Garan to order the stop of vampire attacks – he had told Jarl Balgruuf that he'd help stop it after all – and went for Winterhold. On the way however…

_**The Pale.**_

They'd just passed Dawnstar on horseback and were now continuing up the mountain that led to Nightcaller Temple. A snowstorm whipped around them – completely ignored by the two vampires and Skyrim's hardiest steed. Even in spite the immunity to cold, Despair was having difficulty seeing through the howling blizzard – as was Shadowmere navigating through it. Passing the Tower of Dawn however, Despair decided it would be better to retire and spend the rest of the day there.

'We'll wait out the storm.' He told Serana as he dismounted, helping her off Shadowmere after him. He gave Shadowmere a slap on the rear and sent the horse away – no need to keep it out in the storm unnecessarily.

Stepping through the doors and into the antechamber of the temple, Despair and Serana let themselves relax. He walked through to the back of the room and began to run his hands over the carvings, seemingly looking for something.

'What is this place?' She asked.

'Nightcaller Temple. I've been here once before, sorting out something for the residents of Dawnstar.' Suddenly the wall that Despair had been analyzing fell through – turning into a violet hologram of itself. 'Come on, this way.' He went through, beckoning Serana with him.

She followed him down the spiraling well in the inner part of the temple. Then they proceeded to go through something that looked like a ruined library, after that an Alchemy laboratory. Eventually they came to a room full of beds and other residential-style furniture. Despair sat down on one and indicated for Serana to do the same for the bed opposite him. As she sat however she looked uneasy.

'I…don't like this place.' She whispered.

'That isn't a surprise; this is the temple of the Daedric Prince Vaermina.' Despair remarked off-handly.

'Oh.'

'Don't worry, any influence she had is long gone – and I already took the artifact under her domain of nightmares from here.' Despair stretched out, taking his mask off and putting it away. A somewhat awkward silence fell upon them, until Despair spoke up again.

'Serana, can I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

'What…happened to your mother? He asked gingerly.

'Oh.' Serana looked down, then back up at him – their eyes meeting. 'She betrayed my father a long time ago – or so _he _says.' She sounded skeptical. 'She and I were quite close – she taught me almost everything I know.'

'I see. Do you miss her?' Despair asked.

'I…I don't like talking about it…' She went quiet at the end of the sentence.

'Oh, I'm sorry.' Despair said apologetically.

'No, I mean…I've never really talked about her with anyone, but with you I don't mind.' She said quickly, subverting Despair's regret. 'Just…give me a moment to think about it.'

'Ah I see, well I'm going to lie down if you don't mind.' He said.

'I think I will too then.' Simultaneously the pair lay down on their respective beds and Serana began to talk.

'My mother's name was Valerica. She was a vampire like me; a Daughter of Coldharbour.'

'Daughter of Coldharbour?' Despair asked, unfamiliar with the term. He looked up to see unease on Serana's face at the question. 'Sorry, you don't have to tell me.'

'No I…' She thought about it. '…thank you…'

'No problem.' Despair returned. 'So; Valerica was it? Continue.' He asked.

'She was a powerful vampire – but she had an interest in Necromancy and Alchemy more than anything else. There was a garden she used to tend to – I helped out sometimes, it was so beautiful.' As Serana talked, she became more and more excited with her voice – fond memories bringing out a vibrant animation to her. 'There was also a laboratory she had, though I wasn't allowed inside it very often, and when I was I was always under the watch of my mother.'

'Hahaha, sounds like she cared a lot about you.' Despair chuckled.

'She did, but…' She trailed off.

'What?'

'When my father started acting strange – before I was put into that ruin you found me in – my mother began to distance herself from him and she encouraged me to do the same. After a while she gave up and took me away from the castle, trying to escape my father. She said it had something to do with the prophecy – but she didn't tell me what. After a while she locked me away, and I don't know where she is now.' She sounded teared-up at the end and Despair turned over in his bed to regard her.

'Hey, I'm sorry…I didn't want to bring up memories that are bad for you.'

'No, this is good. Maybe we'll find her again.'

'Perhaps…she did take one of the two Elder Scrolls we had with us and gave the other one to me.' Serana said.

For the second time in two days Despair froze suddenly, turning slowly to Serana. 'She has an Elder Scroll?' He asked sternly.

'Yeah, did I not mention that?' She asked innocently.

'You did _not_.' Despair lifted his palm to his forehead and rubbed it. 'Honestly Serana, important stuff like this isn't something you can throw around casually – I told you what happened the last time someone used an Elder Scroll without fully understanding it.'

'…Sorry.' Serana said.

'No it's fine…we just have to find her now. If anything I should thank you – that's probably the other scroll we need alongside yours and mine for Harkon's prophecy.' Despair let his arm drop and stared at the ceiling.

'Alright, let's get some sleep. I'll take first watch.' He got out of bed and looked at her, aware of their vampirism but still deciding that sleep was a good idea.

'Why? We're really deep down in this temple, not to mention there's a snowstorm outside and this isn't the most obvious of places to begin with.' Serana asked.

'Heh, you really haven't been in Skyrim long enough, my lady.' He put the mask back on and gave her one last glance. 'There's danger lurking behind every corner – I'll wake you up in an hour or so.' He began to walk out of the room when Serana called out for him.

'Despair!' She called and he turned.

'…Wait with me. I don't want to be alone again – not after Dimhollow.'

Behind the mask he smiled at the pretty vampire and returned to her side, standing vigilantly on watch. He waited until she fell asleep in the bed before removing his mask again – revealing his warm smile. Leaning down to brushed a lock of hair out from over her face, reeling back when she suddenly shifted slightly. Lucky for him she stayed asleep.

'Heh. Get ahold of yourself Despair.' He said aloud to himself, walking to the entrance of the room and staying there, waiting.

About half an hour passed when Despair suddenly heard a noise from upstairs. He looked back at Serana's sleeping form before turning and leaving the room, heading to the source of the noise. He crept around the dark corners of the temple, heading into spiraling centre of the building. Climbing the stairs Despair heard the noise again, but more than that he sensed the flow of Magicka in the air.

_What was…?_ He thought to himself as he turned the corner back into the entrance chamber – though the violet holograph – when suddenly a blast of flame shot towards him and he just ducked in time.

Despair spun on his toes back into the spiral part of the temple, avoiding a second shot of fire.

'Come out vampire! I know you're there!' A voice shouted out, accompanied by another flaming shot.

_That voice…_Despair recognized it but he couldn't place it. _Regardless, I have to defeat him here – I can't let him get to Serana._

Despair summoned a pair of Dremora Lords and sent them charging into the room – using them as flame buffers as he chased in behind them; armouring himself with Alteration magic and Lightning Cloak. Immediately the attacker stopped as they started retreating from the armoured Daedra.

'I smell weakness!' They shouted in unison, charging up to the attacker together. From behind their large forms Despair couldn't make out the attacker as he strafed around the wall at the back – but he was tall, and pale skinned…

Suddenly one of the Dremora Lord's turned into dust and his Daedric Greatsword flew out of his hand and embedded into the wall – mere millimetres from Despair's face. In the next second the other Dremora was pierced through the gut by an Ebony Sword and turned to ashes like its partner.

'Bound Bow.' Despair whispered as he conjured the weapon, waiting to see his foe.

'By the order of the Thalmor, and the pride of Ancanor; Captain of Elven forces in Hjaalmarch!...' The Thalmor Wizard from Northwatch Keep squared his sword at Despair, glaring down the blade. 'I sentence you; vampire…to death!'

Despair frowned behind his mask, nocking an arrow into his body and lifting the weapon up so as to he was aiming at Ancanor. The Elf looked different now…no longer was he wearing the standard Thalmor Robes that mages of the Aldmeri Dominion were garbed in – but something new entirely. He wore an open-faced Ebony Helmet with the side fins being even longer than normal. His torso wore an altered variant of the Ebony Armour – designed to be lighter but with the tails of his Thalmor Robes still with it. Over his back were two sword sheathes – one full and one empty. His limbs had Ebony Gauntlets and Boots respectively – though fitted to his tall, lean frame.

Now that Despair could get a better look at him he saw that he Elf had an angular jaw and sharp features. His eyes were a frosty grey and his cheeks were sallow. What was odd was his skin tone – rather than the typical yellow of Altmer his leaned towards white, pale.

'Ancanor is it? Don't you recall how harshly I beat you back at Northwatch?' Despair said.

'Pah! I was taken by surprise, and there was that dragon there to ruin things.'

'Which I slaughtered – along with most of your men.' Despair snarked.

'Silence!' Ancanor shouted, flicking his empty hand with a Conjuration spell and summoning an Frost Atronach. 'Kill him!'

The icy golem lumbered towards Despair and he raised his bow, shooting the nocked arrow directly into the Daedra's chest. In rapid succession he fired three more, cracking at the golem's form severely. The Atronach staggered and Despair grinned behind Morokei – letting the next nocked arrow in his hand drop and he extended the arm to his side.

'Bound Spear.'

He put the polearm into the bowstring and pulled it, aiming right at the Frost Atronach's head. Then he fired and the oversized projectile shot into the golem, impaling it through its "face". As it tumbled to the floor it shattered, releasing an icy mist in its death.

Suddenly a dark shape charged out of the mist and swung its sword at Despair, who leaned to the side to avoid it. Ancanor raised his empty arm and equipped his the second sword from his back, going into a dual-wielding frenzy. Despair barely had space to move as his foe slashed wildly this way and that, and soon the Elf had pushed him back into the wall.

'Now!' The Thalmor agent screamed, plunging both swords into Despair's belly.

'**Fiem!'** Despair just got the first word of "Become Ethereal" out before he was gutted, the blades passing harmlessly through his transdimensional form.

'What!?' Ancanor exclaimed, only for Despair to literally walk out _through _the Elf and behind him.

'Bound Talons.'

Ancanor spun and slashed his Ebony Swords in his turn, only for Despair to grab the edges of the blades and stop them; barehanded. On his hands were ethereal armoured claws, gripping Ancanor's Ebony Swords. Ancanor pushed but Despair didn't budge, instead forcing the weapons back and pushing the Elf into the wall that he had just been pinned against. Despair suddenly pulled his arms apart – taking Ancanor's weapons with him – and pulled the swords out of his enemy's hands, throwing them across the room.

Despair lunged with his Bound Talons at Ancanor's chest – the Thalmor barely blocking with his gauntlets in time.

'**Suh! Grah! Dun!' **Despair called upon the power of "Elemetal Fury" and shot punches like bullets over Ancanor. His first strike hit the Elf in the gut, only protected by the Ebony Armour he sported. Within the space of a second Despair pulled Ancanor's arms away from his chest and double-punched the breastplate – knocking the Elf back. Using the rapid speed to knee Ancanor in the stomach he sent the Elf doubling over – only to uppercut him in the face with a vicious claw attack.

'GAAH!' He screamed as his face was torn up by the attack. Despair went in for another assault – when suddenly the effects of the shout ended – and Ancanor was already halfway through his attack.

'Fireball!' He shouted out and blasted the explosive Destruction spell point-blank – the flames enveloping them both.

Despair was blasted over to the other side of the room completely, hitting the wall and then falling into a crumpled heap on the floor. 'GA-ACK!' He coughed and tried to get to his feet but the burning pain was too much, succumbing to the weakness to fire that plagued vampires.

_Shit…again…He exploited my weakness…_The agonizing sensation paralyzed his whole body – and at the same time made him aware to every nerve flaring off under the flames. His body was still alight as Ancanor was getting up. Lying face-down in the ground wasn't comfortable.

_I can't…breathe…_ The Dragonborn thought distraughtly. Vampire's didn't need to _breathe_ per se, but his innards tightened up and refused to let him move.

'Got you…' Ancanor breathed heavily, healing his own burns with Restoration magic. He sauntered over to Despair's sprawling form. The Restoration magic hadn't healed the scarring that Despair had carved into the Elf's face from his claw uppercut attack – and it bled painfully, the scars running down the entire left side of his face and cutting clean through one of his eyes. He glared angrily down as he approached Despair.

'This is for…the Thalmor…' He lifted his boot and smashed it down into Despair's head, crushing it into the hard ground.

'Guuaaagh!'

'This is for slaughtering my men!' He raised his boot and stomped it down again, harder. This time Despair didn't scream out.

'And this…is for ME!' He raised the Ebony Boot one last time and brought it down, when suddenly Despair lifted his hand – and caught it. Ancanor struggled against Despair's strength, pushing down with all his might and failing. Despair began to push himself to his feet – his robes still singing – and managed to get to his knees before Ancanor blasted another shot of Fireball at him. Despair screamed out in pain and was deflated – lying limp on the ground.

'Tch. Arrogant vampire, you think you could defeat a superior Mer such as myself?' Ancanor raised the boot again – this time smashing it down onto Despair's arm, breaking bone.

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!'

'Listen here Breton. I know what you are – Elenwen told me about the Arch-mage of Winterhold being Dragonborn – and your heretic blood won't save you.' He kicked Despair's head from the side – turning The Dragonborn over onto his back.

'I'll kill you here. You already killed Alduin didn't you? No need to keep you around any longer – insurgent.' Ancanor walked away for a moment, returning with both of his Ebony Swords that Despair had disarmed. He raised them both and brought them down – impaling Despair's arms and pinning them to the ground.

'There. That should keep you from moving for long enough.' Ancanor began to charge a dual-cast of Incinerate between his hands and aimed it down. 'Let's see how long you last, Dragonborn.'

Suddenly a shot of ice rammed into Ancanor's head from the side – destabilizing the spell and staggering the Elf. Ancanor twisted his head up to see his new attacker – and what he saw terrified him.

Serana stood in the doorway to the spiral part of the temple – fangs bared and entire body pulsating with wrath. Her normally warm orange eyes had shifted into a murderous crimson and her hands were clawed, holding ice-style Destruction magic. Behind he was a heavily armoured Orc corpse – one of the invaders from Despair's first time in Nightcaller Temple.

'Get. Away. From. Him.' She snarled.

'H-how dare you, vampire!' Ancanor tried to recompose himself but he couldn't even flicker Destruction magic into his hands before he was pelted by more ice, sending him back. Where the armour was the Ice Spike's simply shattered upon impact – but the exposed locations were now impaled by the frozen spikes, sticking through him.

'Die!' She roared in rage. The Orc zombie behind her charged and didn't even take out his weapons – simply ramming into the Elf with his massive shoulder. The force sent Ancanor sprawling and bashing into the door to Nightcaller Temple, where more Ice Spike's rained down upon him.

He cowered in fear as Serana came closer, covering himself in Alteration armour in panic – though it was futile. She grabbed him by the collar and lifted him – one-handed – into the air, his feet dangling off the ground.

'The next time we hear your name, it will be the last time you live; _Ancanor_.' Her claws tightened and dug into his neck, drawing blood. Suddenly she dropped him – but he hadn't even touched the ground before she blasted him through the door and out into the cold blizzard with a spinning kick. She didn't even watch the Elf run away in fear before turning to her wounded companion.

'Despair!' She called out, running over to him. Her wrath turned to fear as she came to him.

Without hesitation the first thing she did was pull the Ebony Swords out of Despair's arms – throwing them away. Then she got down – inadvertently straddling him over his lower stomach – and tried to wake him up.

'Despair! Despair!' She called out. She removed the mask of Morokei and found that his face was scarred by fire – in some places blackened completely.

'Oh no…no, no, no!' She cried out. Serana immediately placed her hands on his face and channeled Restoration magic through him – to no avail.

'Despair!' Her eyes began to well up in the face of losing the only being she trusted in the world.

'…Don't worry…Serana…' He wheezed out, a pained smile being etched on his face. 'Fire…can't kill a dragon…' He looked up at her, his eyes locking with hers. '…Ice…' He said.

At first she didn't understand then suddenly it became clearer to her. She stopped casting the Restoration magic and switched to the lowest level of ice Destruction; Frostbite. As tenderly as possible she cast the cold magic over him – his burn wounds healing up as she did, as if they were never there.

'…Thanks.' He said seemingly with more ease, the injuries from fire completely gone now. 'Could you do my arms…please?'

One by one she cast Restoration spells over his arms, healing where they had been impaled by the swords. She couldn't do much more about the break in his left arm than numb the pain but Despair thanked her nonetheless. When she was done she put her hands back onto his face and leaned closer down to him.

'…Why didn't you wake me up, I could have helped you.' She said after a long silence.

'I didn't want to wake you; you look so beautiful when you sleep.' He said, making her blush slightly.

'If I woke up and you had died I wouldn't smile again, do you think I would still be beautiful?' She asked, slightly angry at him.

'Oh, is that how important I am to you? I'm honoured Serana.' Despair snarked.

'Don't say that…you're the only important thing to me, that I have left.' She said somberly.

'Serana…' Despair whispered. He raised his hands to take hers that were resting on his cheeks, holding them tightly. Another silence descended upon them, one of the tears from Serana's eyes dropping onto Despair's face.

'In my defense…you seem pretty scary when woken up.' He chuckled, causing her to smile a little.

She hummed. 'Look, I've slept for long enough…I don't think it'd matter too much if I lost a few hours every so often.' She took her hands off of his face and began sliding them around his neck, snaking them around between the floor he was lying on and his body. With that she pulled herself in closer so that his chest was pressed against hers and her legs were on the outside of his.

'Don't leave me again.' She whispered.

Despair wrapped his arms around her and secured her to him. His mind raced in the face of the situation. Whether she was caught up in the heat of the moment or she had genuine feelings for him. Was this just a product of having no one else in her life that wasn't going to manipulate or backstab her or was it something stronger between the two of them? His head filled with the mess of trying to sort it out, he didn't know.

But instead of asking her, he simply said into her ear;

'I won't.'

Together they fell asleep in each other's arms on the floor – uncaring of the hardness of the ground or the howling wind outside, content together.


	4. Blind

Yaaaaaay more Skyrim. Enjoy, review.

I do not own the Elder Scrolls nor anything affiliated with them, merely my own ideas.

* * *

The sun set over the horizon and with it went the snowstorm that had imprisoned Despair and Serana within Nightcaller Temple. As night descended upon the land of Skyrim the pair stepped out of the tower and back into the outside, admiring the scenery.

'Wow, look at this.' Serana gazed out at the snow-covered land, having been reformed into a smooth, majestic texture in the wake of the snowstorm. Behind her Despair whistled for Shadowmere and made his way to her side. 'You sure you're ok to ride with that arm?' She asked him.

His left arm was hanging loosely at his side – the bones broken from the fight with Ancanor. 'When we get to Winterhold I'll ask the mages to fix me up. Colette should be able to get it right, or at the very least put it in a sling.'

She punched him lightly. 'As if I could have done a better job, I'm better at raising the dead than tending to the living.'

'Hey don't be like that, you did great.' He smiled warmly at her. Morokei was tucked into the folds of the Arch-mage robes, letting Serana see his face. At that moment he saw a dark shape with glowing red eyes galloping towards them. Shadowmere slowed down as the horse neared, stopping side on to his master.

'You go first.' Despair said to Serana. With his right arm he helped her up, and with some difficulty he followed – sitting behind her while she took the reins.

'Um…I'm not very good with horses.' She said nervously.

'Don't worry…he doesn't bite.' Despair reassured her, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep steady. 'But he does have a mean kick.' He kicked his heels at Shadowmere's rear and the horse set off at a slow pace, letting both vampires relax as they set off for Winterhold.

_**Winterhold.**_

Two hours, three bickering necromancers, a pack of bandits and a frost troll later; the duo made it to Winterhold, riding slowly into the disheveled town from the west.

'Hey…why are they acting that way?' Serana asked as they passed the civilians, the northern inhabitants of Skyrim scowling and turning away from the horse-mounted pair.

'It's me, the folk in Winterhold aren't too fond of the mages – let alone their leader. That coupled with the fact I brought the Empire into their Stormcloak pocket in the north is more than enough reason for them to dislike me.' Despair whispered into her ear, leaning over her shoulder.

'That's not good, you saved them – multiple times if you're to be believed.' She whispered back.

'Ha – are you insinuating that I'm untrustworthy? Anyway, that's just how the sweetroll crumbles.' Despair said. 'Come on, we'll go the rest of the way on foot.'

He beckoned Shadowmere to stop just as they reached the ramp up to the bridge. He took Serana's hand and slid off the horse, using her to help him. She dismounted after him and together they climbed the ramp – Serana supporting Despair's injured arm, leaving Shadowmere to leave and trundle about Skyrim in his master's absence.

'Faralda.' Despair regarded the Altmer woman standing guard before the bridge.

'Arch-mage.' Then Faralda noticed the pale woman holding onto the Arch-mage's left arm. 'Who is…?'

'Serana. She's a friend of mine.' Despair finished. 'Could you please send a message for Colette? And tell Urag I want to see him in my quarters.'

'Arch-mage I can't leave the bridge-' Faralda protested.

Before she could finish Despair conjured a single Dremora Lord, standing tall and menacing in red and black armour.

'Stand guard until Faralda returns.' He ordered the Dremora, indicating at Faralda. '…And _don't _kill anyone.'

'My lord.' The creature nodded, turning to face the ruined city.

Faralda bowed to the Arch-mage and his companion, and then turned to run to the College itself – fulfilling Despair's requests. Slowly Despair and Serana made their way across the perilous state of the bridge, her stabilizing him over the more wrecked places with the loss of the use of his arm.

'You should really get this thing fixed and think about mending the rest of Winterhold – it was nowhere this bad when I was last awake.' She told him.

'I know; I know…I've just been busy with…' He trailed off, trying to think of an excuse.

'Saving the world?' She suggested sarcastically

'That works.' He laughed lightly. By this point they had made it to the gates and had walked into the main forum. Before they had even made halfway to the centre-statue they were approached by a couple of mages.

'Arch-mage…' Colette began as she approached, then she saw Serana and how she was holding Despair's arm. 'Oh by the nine Despair, what have you done to yourself _this_ time!?' She huffed.

'Hahaha, always a pleasure to see you too Colette – how's everyone been?' Despair replied.

'Sigh, Tolfdir is the only one actually trying to teach the initiates – though they seem to be doing well for themselves; Jzargo blew himself up again though – luckily he was off-campus.'

'Is he alright?' Despair was fond of his fellow student/rival/underling.

'Yes, yes – nothing serious. Anyway – you go up to your quarters and I'll fetch some of my tools.' She turned and went to the Hall of Countenance, leaving Despair, Faralda and Serana in front of the statue.

'…I havent even told her what was wrong with me…' Despair moaned.

'Shut up, she knows.' Serana said, to the amusement of Faralda.

From there the three moved in silence into the main tower block. Upon entering the Hall of the Elements Despair gave an instinctive glance to the middle of the room – the magical well.

_Ancano…you stupid fool. _He thought, giving a sparing moment to remember that conflict before turning

and heading up the stairs to the Arch-mages' quarters. They got halfway up before Despair turned to Faralda and said; 'Go and get Urag now…and Enthir.' He added.

Faralda blinked at the last part but turned back down the stairs to complete her leaders' orders. Serana and Despair continued up in silence, eventually getting to the top and going through the door. Serana almost dropped Despair's broken arm as see saw the room inside.

'Wow…' She said as they entered. 'You live here?' She beheld the centre of the room – the magical display captivating her.

'I don't actually, but it is certainly nice.' Despair replied, leading her to a chair and slumping down in it. 'Take a seat.'

Serana frowned and stood before him, ignoring his offer. 'How can you not live here?'

Despair sighed. 'When one amasses the fortune I possess it is difficult to spend it. In light of that, I own property in every hold.'

Serana stared at him, silenced. Then she brought her hand up and massaged her temples. 'Gods Despair, because being Dragonborn wasn't enough for you was it?' He couldn't help breaking into a massive grin, smiling stupidly at her. 'You have no idea.' He said.

At that moment the door to the holdings opened and in came Colette, walking briskly in with a satchel over her shoulder. She walked up to Despair and took him by the arm.

'Bed, now.'

'Wha-what?' He protested, only to be pulled mercilessly and forced to lie down on the bed in the Arch-mages' quarters by the stern Restoration mage. 'Serana, help!'

'Oh be quiet you, be grateful you're getting this for free – most people I heal have to pay in multiple parts.' Colette leaned over him, making him remove the Dragonscale Armour and pushed the Arch-mage' robes away from his arm.

'Ah ouch!' He winced as the healer fiddled with his arm, trying to remove the assortment of gear.

'Stop whining.' She tossed the dragon-make armour aside and pulled his sleeve up, only to gasp at the pale pallour of his skin. 'Despair…' He grunted, turning away. Behind Colette Serana shifted uncomfortably.

'You should have come to see me right away…or Falion, I'm sure he's still in Morthal-'

'I chose this.' Despair cut her off.

'…What?' Colette said in stunned shock.

'I chose this. Now, as your Arch-mage I'd like you to drop it.' He said sternly, commanding. 'Secrecy is part of a healers job isn't it?' He reminded her.

Colette was quiet for a little bit, when she opened her mouth again she asked; 'Is she…?' Indicating at Serana.

'Yes.'

'Did she…?'

Despair hesitated for a moment. She hadn't _bitten _him strictly speaking, but she was a large part of the reason as to why he had chosen to become a vampire – she could be held responsible for his choice, but not in a negative light.

'No…she didn't bite me.'

'I see.' Silently, Colette went back to treated Despair.

First she held his arm into the air with Magicka, letting it float of the bed a few inches. Then she began to cast different Restoration spells over Despair's arm. First one to numb the pain, then another to move the bone back together.

As she worked however, the side of the bed that Despair was lying on forced her to lean over him to treat his left arm. As she worked her body came tantalizingly close to his – never quite touching. Despair looked up at Serana, who in turn appeared to be glaring daggers at Colette's back.

_Is she…jealous?_

'There, it should heal on its own if you leave it. Let me just put a cast on it.' She got up and went to where her satchel was, rummaging through it. 'Got it, now hold still…'

Several minutes later Despair was sitting on the edge of the bed – left arm in a cast. Colette looked down at him disapprovingly. 'No more fighting.' Despair scoffed. 'Sigh, at least stay away from the Nordic Tombs until you're better.'

'Sure.' He smiled up at her in mock-affection, though there was sincerity behind it.

As she began to pack up her stuff she gave a withering look to Serana before turning back to Despair. 'About your…'

'Not a word.' He said sternly. 'The College is known for lax rules but we wouldn't last long if the people of Skyrim knew that the only mages they could trust were led by a vampire.'

The healer nodded. Unceremoniously she turned and approached the door – only for it to open in front of her and two males to step into the room.

'Arch-mage.' Urag Gro-shab entered the room with Enthir behind him, addressing Despair. As he and the Elf walked in Colette made her exit. As a pair they approached Serana and Despair, standing before their Arch-mage and waiting for instructions – though Enthir shot a quick smile Serana's way.

'Urag.' Despair smiled at the Orsimer librarian. 'I need my Elder Scroll.'

'Wait you have a-' Enthir began, but he was cut off.

'Arch-mage!? Whatever for?' Urag began to protest, but Despair raised a hand.

'You already know my relationship with Elder Scroll's. Please don't complicate this.'

'Fine.' Urag reluctantly agreed. 'But you'll have to pay me.' Despair frowned and pulled a small sack of gold out of his robes, tossing them to the Orc.

'Go.' At Despair's words the Orc set off to the library below, leaving the Elf.

'Enthir, have either you or any of your contacts heard anything about a Moth Priest in Skyrim?' The Dragonborn asked the less-than-noble merchant.

'A Moth Priest…? Uh…I think so…but what do you want a Moth Priest for?' Enthir said.

'None of your business.' Despair reached over to where Colette had put his Dragonscale Armour and set to putting it back on. In the meanwhile Enthir was regarding Serana, watching her up and down.

'So…how long have you been in Skyrim? I don't think I've seen you around before.' Enthir smirked at her.

'Back off.' She said aloofly.

'Ooh, don't worry, I'll make sure-'

'_Enthir_.' Despair warned menacingly, not looking up from adjusting his armour – but putting heavy emphasis on his less-than-accepting inflection.

'Sorry boss.' He hastily apologized.

Despair sighed, looking up. 'Anyway, where is the Moth Priest now?'

'Um…Somewhere in Hjaalmarch I think…not Solitude though.'

'Dragon Bridge.' Despair said.

'Possibly, but I think-' Enthir began.

'Enough, thank you for your help Enthir.' Despair rose to his feet, stretching out. 'So how is Karliah, is she well?' Despair asked.

'Oh she's fine. She says she isn't interested in what the Guild does – but she's still a thief through and through.' Enthir said happily.

'That's nice.' Despair turned to Serana, then to Enthir. 'Now get out.'

Enthir didn't hesitate and left the room swiftly, he knew better than to disobey his boss's orders – let alone someone as powerful as Despair. Arch-mage _and_Nightingale…as far as Enthir knew anyway.

As soon as the door closed Despair fell back and flopped onto the bed, his knees hitting the sides and his feet on the ground. 'By Oblivion he annoys me.'

Serana laughed, sharing his opinion. She moved to sit down next to him when suddenly Despair got up and started walking out – taking her with him. 'Hopefully Urag has my scroll.'

They went down to the Arcanium and saw the Orc holding the Elder Scroll gingerly – watching the vampiric duo as they approached him. 'Here.' He said, giving Despair the scroll. 'Return it when you're done using it.'

'This isn't a book, Urag.' Despair deadpanned. 'But thanks.' He turned and left, robes swishing behind him. He and Serana left the main tower and eventually the College of Winterhold altogether.

'They were…interesting.' Serana said.

'I like to use the word; "diverse". But don't worry – they're a good group of people.' Despair said. He was about to whistle for Shadowmere when Serana stopped him.

'Come on, let's walk together – I want to see more of this Skyrim you keep talking about.' She told him, smiling.

Despair didn't reply for a moment, and then suddenly he grinned. 'I have a better idea.'

He took the lead and brought Serana to a secluded spot between Winterhold and Dawnstar, somewhere flat and out of the way so that no one would notice. She looked at him; a bit confused – when suddenly he looked up to the sky and shouted;

'**Od! Ah! Viing!'**

Several moments went by quietly after that, until Serana asked Despair; 'What was that…?'

Suddenly a roar filled the sky and Serana jerked her head up, looking for its source. She saw it – flying from the south – the great form of a red dragon approaching them. She readied Destruction magic in her hands, suddenly realizing that Despair was just standing there – grinning like an idiot.

'Despair! What are you-!' She was cut off when she suddenly heard the dragon speak to them, a deep and powerful voice filling the sky.

'Hail, Dovahkiin. What purpose have you called me for today?' Odahviing said, landing heavily nearby them – sending snow flying.

'That's a…' Serana said in awe of the close proximity.

'Odahviing.' Despair said warmly to the larger dragon. 'I need you to take my friend and I to Dragon Bridge. You know where that is?'

'Geh, Dovahkiin. I can do that.' The red dragon turned his head to regard Serana. 'And who is this…Fahdon Dovahkiin – your friend?'

'This is Serana, say hello.' Despair said.

'Drem Yol Lok, Fahdon Dovahkiin; Serana.' Odahviing breathed a hot gust of air into Serana's face, signaling hello in the form of "Yol". She staggered back in the force of the heat-wave and Despair reached out to Serana instinctively – aware of the weakness vampires had to fire – but she seemed fine.

'It's nice to meet you too…dra-' She began nervously.

'Od-ah-viing.' The old beast said slowly for her.

'Odahviing.' She smiled, addressing him by name.

Done with the pleasantries', Odahviing lowered his neck and allowed the two to climb atop him. Despair took the front while Serana sat behind him, holding on tightly around his mid-section. Despair put the mask of Morokei back on as he sat on Odahviing's neck – remembering the last time how harshly the wind whipped his face.

'Krosis, Fahdon Dovahkiin – after this your envy of the Dov shall only increase.' Odahviing said to Serana. Despair chuckled at the comment.

_'How amusing that must be for you, Joor. Considering your Sos Kopraan gives Viing Dovahkiin – wings to you…you have nothing to envy of the Dovah. Truly, you are as much Dovah as you are Dovahkiin.' _Alduin mused within his consciousness.

_Perhaps, my dear World-Eater. But there's always something I'll envy you dragons for. _Despair thought back.

_'Oh?'_ Alduin thought.

_Bodies like a battering ram._ Despair told the inner-dragon.

_'Hahahahahahahahahahahaha.'_ Alduin rumbled with laughter at Despair's joke.

_It wasn't that funny…_

At that moment Odahviing decided to lift off, beating his wings heavily and rising off the snow-covered earth.

'WAAAAHHHH!' Serana screamed, hugging into Despair tighter.

'Hold on Dovahkiin, Fahdon Dovahkiin – I shall show you the skies of Nirn.' Odahviing flew off, rising higher and higher until they were almost at cloud level. The dragon slowed to a steady cruise, taking his time over the area.

Despair leaned over to admire the scenery – while Serana still had her face in his back. _I havent forgotten the view from last time I was up here – and I won't ever forget a view like this._ He smiled, unable to help it. _Who cares if I can fly with the Vampire Lord…this is completely different._

'Serana, it's alright, you can look down.' He turned his head over his shoulder and reassured the attractive vampire clinging to his torso.

'Come on, you won't fall off.' He said.

Gingerly she opened one eye, looking down at Skyrim. After a few seconds she opened the other and relaxed her hold on The Dragonborn, though she didn't move away at all. 'Wow…' She uttered in awe.

'Yeah. It has that effect.' Despair went back to admiring his homeland from their height. Then he leaned forward and whispered something to Odahviing.

'Geh, Dovahkiin.'

To Serana's shock the dragon beneath them suddenly shifted and descended down. She closed her eyes and began to scream into Despair's back as Odahviing moved. After a while of her screaming however, he stopped and Serana reluctantly opened her eyes. Suddenly she could see everything much clearer – they had gone closer to the ground. From where they were before the land looked beautiful, but now that she could see everything in much greater detail; it was simply stunning.

'This is what I wanted to show you.' Despair told her. 'And you wanted to _walk_.'

She punched him, and then pulled herself into his back for a hug.

'Thank you Despair, for this.' She paused. 'For everything.'

A warm feeling ignited within the cold, undead body of The Dragonborn. He was about to reply when Odahviing started talking.

'Dovahkiin, we are nearing Dragon Bridge.' The dragon said.

Despair was slightly taken aback, but responded to his dragon after a moment. 'Good, drop us off a little outside town.'

'As you wish.' Odahviing suddenly turned and descended, lowering the trio down. Eventually they hit the ground and Despair and Serana dismounted the dragon.

'Thank you Odahviing. Tiid Unslaad.' Despair bid his farewell to the dragon.

'Tiid Unslaad, Despair. Farewell.' Odahviing lifted off and soared away, leaving the two vampires alone in the wood near Dragon Bridge. It was the middle of the day and the sun shone brightly. They approached Dragonridge and entered the town quickly, looking around.

'So where is this Moth Priest?' Serana asked.

'I'm just supposed to know? Come on, let's check the inn.' Despair suggested. As they climbed up the steps, the door to the inn suddenly opened and three heavily armoured figures stepped out – knocking into Despair.

'…Sorry.' The leader muttered. He was about to continue on his way when he took a second glance at the man he had just bumped into, looking just long enough for Despair to begin to feel nervous. Then it dawned on him as he regarded the armour in closer detail.

Dawnguard Agents.

'Serana! Get back!' Despair shouted, pushing the Dawnguard Agent over and rushing back. He frowned – unable to use his left arm in combat – before summoning a Dremora Lord and sending it at the two standing vampire hunters.

'A challenger is near!' The Daedra roared as it charged the two enemies down – both of them smaller in frame than the one Despair had pushed over.

Despair placed buffs over himself with Alteration armour, then Lightning Cloak before resorting to a Bound Weapon. 'Bound Shield.' He muttered the name of the spell – with only one arm it'd be better to focus on defense.

'Vampires!' The leader called to his companions as he got to his feet, drawing a Crossbow.

At the sound of his words the other two drew their weapons; an axe and shield for one and a warhammer for the other. The one with the warhammer – a woman – ran to meet Despair's Dremora Lord, shouting a battle cry. 'FOR THE DAWNGUARD!' She yelled.

She lifted her warhammer up high – intending to smash it down on the summoned creatures' head – when suddenly the Dremora slashed a vicious arc across her chest with his black greatsword, drawing a fountain of blood. She dropped the warhammer and her throat gargled blood, her body collapsing. 'N-no…'

She hadn't even hit the ground before her companion had raced in, bashing the Daedra with his shield and swinging with his axe. 'HeeeaaaaaAAAAARRRGHH!' He shouted.

Meanwhile, Serana and Despair were fending off the leader Dawnguard. Despair had his Bound Shield raised over both of them, while Serana fired off Ice Spike's at him. His armour was thick though, and his movements nimble; the shots that managed to hit him barely glanced off of his huge shoulder plates. Despair grimaced.

'Serana, resurrect that corpse over there!' Despair jerked his head towards the recently-slain Dawnguard member.

'Got it!' She threw a blast of Necromancy magic at the corpse, reanimating it with unholy life.

Immediately the zombie rose to attack her ally who was already sparring with the Dremora – and losing. She swung her warhammer sideways and caught the Dawnguard in the back of the knee – knocking him down to his knees. 'What, no!' He exclaimed, realizing the resurrection of his ally. She lifted the warhammer again above her head and brought it down, the living Dawnguard blocking it with his shield – but only just. He tried to wildly swing his axe at her from the ground and managed to embed its blade in her thigh – bring the zombie down. But when he tried to pull it out he couldn't, the axe stuck in his still-reanimated companion's dead flesh.

Suddenly the black Daedric Greatsword pierced clean through his head, cleaving it in half.

_Good. Now we can focus on _him_._ Despair thought, regarding the Crossbow-wielding agent.

'You'll die this day, vampires!' The leader screamed as he reloaded his weapon. He suddenly turned from firing on Despair and Serana and moved to shoot at the Dremora and zombie. He fired a bolt into the undead Dawnguard girl's chest and brought her to dust.

'…Thank you…'Escaped her lips before she fully disassembled.

The Dremora charged hard. The Dawnguard leader fired an arrow at Despair's summon, but the Daedra swatted the bolt away with his huge sword. With the monster closing in, the Dawnguard put his Crossbow away and raised his fists.

'He isn't going to fight that thing _barehanded _is he!?' Serana exclaimed.

Turns out, he was.

The Dremora Lord swung down in a vertical arc and the Dawnguard dodged to the right. He jabbed twice at the Dremora's face, stunning the creature. Then he moved in close, swinging with his elbow into its nose – breaking it. The Dremora threw him off however and took another wild swing at the vampire hunter – the black blade's edge barely skimming the "chin" of the Heavy Dawnguard Helmet as the man leaned back.

Suddenly the Dawnguard lunged and double-punched the Daedra in the chest with both fists. The Dremora went flying, getting at least two or three feet of air before hitting the ground – de-spawning and returning to Oblivion.

_Shit! He's strong!_ Despair cursed inwardly.

'He just…how…?' Serana stared in disbelief. Even Harkon – albeit in his human form – had never displayed the strength to _beat_ a _Dremora Lord_ down with his bare hands.

'Perhaps we vampires underestimated the tenacity of humans.' Despair mused. 'Or perhaps…' He suddenly turned his head and barked at Serana; 'Serana! I need you to cover me.'

'Got it!' She called back.

Despair stood up and ditched the Bound Shield, regarding the Dawnguard. He made his presence know, standing still and pushing his shoulders back.

_Come and get me_. He thought.

The Dawnguard frowned behind his helm – unseen to his foes. He pulled his Crossbow from his back and began loading it and Despair jumped into action.

'Now, Serana!'

'**Tiid! Klo! Ul!'** Despair shouted out, slowing time to his will.

Ice Spike's volleyed from behind Despair as he charged forth – this is what he'd been waiting for. The first bolt sailed past Despair harmlessly as he sidestepped it. The Dawnguard hadn't even reloaded before the first blasts of ice pummeled into him. However he barely flinched. Time still slowed – Despair evaded the second bolt with ease, nearing his prey now he held his right arm out to the side and splayed his fingers.

'Bound-'

Time resumed.

'SPEAR!' Despair lunged forth – clutching the spear near the blunt end of the shaft – even with time at normal speed he was faster than the eyes could see. The Dragonborn plunged the bladed tip into the Dawnguard Agent's eye, pushing down until almost half the long shaft had passed through his head.

'GAH!' The Dawnguard yelled out, his last breath curdling with his blood. Despair grunted and twisted the spear deeper into the man's head, causing blood to squirt out all over the vampire's arm. Several moments went by and neither corpse nor killer moved, simply standing perfectly motionless. Serana approached behind Despair, coming to his side.

'…Despair…?' She asked.

He moved, his hands letting go of the ethereal polearm. The figure began to fall back and the weapon faded inside his head, no longer connected to a source of Magicka. The body hit the ground with a dull thud, blood splashing everywhere.

'Despair…?' She asked again, placing a hand on his shoulder. She tried pulling him to face her, but immediately wished she hadn't.

There it was again; that hateful red glow in his eyes, that battle-lusting monster within him; the berserker inside Despair. Serana stepped back without thinking, afraid. She almost fainted when he reached out for her with his bloodstained right hand – until he touched her shoulder and the glow in his eyes disappeared.

'…Serana?' He called her name. It was his voice, the voice that comforted her.

She unfroze and looked at him, trying to make sure it was _her_ Despair that she was seeing. 'Yes, I'm here.' She smiled. Despair took his arm off of her and regarded the blood from the Dawnguard member, taking a deep whiff before making a grimacing noise.

'Werewolf blood.' He flicked the crimson fluid from his forearm and wiped the rest of it off. 'That's why he was so strong.'

'Oh.' Serana looked down at the corpse in shock. 'That's how strong they are?'

'In Beast Form, they're a lot stronger…oh, what's this?' Despair suddenly noticed something on his victim's person, kneeling down. He reached over and pulled a small slip of paper from the Dawnguard's armour, flipping it open and reading it.

'Good news.' He looked up at Serana. 'We've found our Moth Priest.'

'Oh, where?'

'Some where south of here…called Forebears' Holdout.' Despair reread the piece of paper before putting it away into his robes. 'Come on.'

They walked through town together, though everyone they passed seemed to turn away from them and head inside their houses – considering what had just happened, neither Despair nor Serana thought anything of it, until one of the guards came up to them.

'Excuse me, did you-' He began.

Despair cast a shot of Illusion magic at the Hold guard, not even batting an eye or stopping his walk as he did so. Suddenly the guard seemed completely oblivious and ambivalent, walking around in a daze. Serana stopped for a few seconds to admire Despair's magical ability with Illusion before catching up with him.

'Hey, you never mentioned you were an Illusionist.' She said as she caught up.

'You never asked. Besides, having their prowess in the skill as a secret is half of the advantage.' Despair replied. 'Remind me to show you what I can do to a man's mind; I'm far better than any Illusionist you've ever seen before.'

She shrugged and gave herself a quick mental note to do so. After passing an overturned carriage with several corpses nearby, they soon reached Forebears' Holdout. Despair stopped in front of the cave for a moment, looking around – and then headed inside, walking through the dark passageway and then coming out to the main chamber.

As they entered the duo saw a large cavern filled with ruins at the centre. They stood on a platform from where they entered with an underground river flowing beneath them. To their left was a staircase leading down. Serana and Despair were about to head down it when suddenly they saw two shapes moving around in the distance. Focusing her vision Serana saw that they were dogs – with white fur and armour.

'The Dawnguard have dogs!?' Serana whispered, turning to Despair – only to find that he wasn't there. 'Despair? Despair!?' She crouched down, not wanting to be caught be the dogs. 'Despair where are you!?' She hissed into the darkness.

Suddenly one of the dogs let out a pained yelp and collapsed before her eyes. Serana stared in shock at the dead canine when suddenly the second dog howled painfully and fell, unmoving. Serana crept close to the first dog, finding it dead and with a gaping wound in its side.

'What was…?' A twig cracked behind her and she turned, brandishing a dagger.

'Whose there?' She said, holding an orb of Destruction magic in her other hand.

'Now, now Serana. Don't be like that.' Despair's voice said from nowhere. Suddenly the air shimmered in front of her and shifted into Despair's frame, revealing the mask-wearing wizard. 'Boo.'

She frowned at him. 'You don't have to show off your talents like that.'

'No…but I should put them to use when necessary.' Despair lifted a curved, black knife to chest-level and flicked it clean before putting it away. 'Dogs can smell us – I doubt Dawnguard employs them just to have an animal motif.' Despair crossed a small bridge over the scream – Serana following – and crouched, creeping around the ruins until they were at an arch, from there they could see a lit campfire and a couple of Dawnguard Agents, along with…

'A troll!?' Serana hissed, Despair nodded solemly.

'Wearing armour.' He added. 'Don't worry, they're normally pushovers.' Despair rose to his full height, preparing to cast Illusion magic again.

'Che, don't be so arrogant Despair.' Serana scoffed at him.

'I'm not, I'm being realistic.' With that he disappeared again, becoming invisible. Serana sighed in annoyance, and prepared to strike in her own way.

'Hey, bucket-heads!' She called out, gaining the attention of the surprised Dawnguard.

She began pelting them with Ice Spike, switching between the two targets every so often to keep them at bay. She grinned when they visibly flinched – proof that not _every _Dawnguard member possessed Lycanthropy. Shifting the spells in her hands from ice Destruction to necromantic Conjuration; Serana resurrected one of the dogs from earlier and beckoned it to attack its masters.

'Eat this!' She cried as the zombie hound raced passed her and leaped on one of the Dawnguard Agents, goring him. The other Dawnguard had gotten close to her however and was swinging his warhammer down on her.

Serana sidestepped to the left and drew her dagger – letting the heavy Two-Handed weapon swing passed her and hit the ground. Reacting quickly she sliced her dagger across the Dawnguard's arm – forcing him to reel back and let go of his weapon. In the next second she had lunged forward and screamed her short blade across the Dawnguard's throat, drawing a fountain of blood.

She chuckled and cleaned the blood off of her dagger, sheathing it. 'Now let's see you do that, Desp-'

She was cut off when a large shadow suddenly rose over her. Looking up she came face-to-face with the towering figure of the Armoured Troll, clad in heavy plating. It roared and spread its arms in an act of intimidation, Serana refused to be afraid – though she could see the hopelessness of the situation. She called her zombie dog – having made a bloody mess of the other Dawnguard's innards – to attack the Troll. Unfortunately the smaller animal was knocked away like it was nothing.

'Damn it.' Serana clenched her teeth and strafed back, blasting the creature before her with Ice Spike's. They slowed it down, but soon she found herself trapped between it and the ruined wall with no place to go.

'GRRAAAAHHHHH!' The Troll roared, bringing its arm up high to attack.

'Bound Scythe.'

Suddenly a violet, ethereal shape cleaved its way up the Troll's entire body – from the crotch to the head – and sliced it vertically in half. The beast stood still for a moment, before falling away into the two halves of its body. As the slain creatures halves fell away, Serana found Despair standing behind it – Bound Scythe in his good hand.

He twirled the shaft between his fingers dexterously, before offering the blunt end to Serana. She took it and he pulled her over the bloody mound of the Troll and into his embrace.

'That's twice I've saved you now.' Despair said smugly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Serana sneered. 'Please. I could have taken him.'

'I know, I just wanted to even the score.'

Serana tilted her head. 'It may have been bigger…but that still only counts as one, Despair.' She indicated at the two halves of Troll.

'True, but while you were down here…' Despair turned and pointed the Bound Scythe up at the battlements atop the ruined wall. After a second of scanning the shadows Serana saw the slumped corpse of another Dawnguard Agent, his head separated from his body by a shield that was embedded into the wall. A discarded Crossbow lay next to his dead carcass.

Despair let her out of his arms and began to climb the stairs up the wall, ascending. 'If there's one thing I've learned about combat Serana, it's to take out the archer's first. Nothing is worse than getting blindsided by an arrow…well, perhaps pissing off the Greybeards…' He muttered at the end. Serana followed after him and soon they were both at the top of the wall and standing on the edge of a circular platform.

'What's this…?' Serana asked as she observed a tower of bright green light and a lone figure within it.

'Don't know, probably a prison of sorts.' Despair took a moment to regard the figure within the magical barrier. 'That's our Moth Priest.'

Serana looked at him. 'How can you tell?'

'He's the only one in here that isn't a vampire, Dawnguard, or dead.' Despair said flatly.

He began circling the platform, looking for a way to release the man. As he walked around he saw a higher pedestal and the stairs leading up to them. Quickly climbing them Despair saw a hollow indent in a short plinth, spherical shaped.

'Serana – one of these guys probably has the key!' He called. 'Can you find something spherical?'

She came over to the corpses and rummaged through their bodies. After a little bit she lifted her head and held up a round shape. 'Is this it?'

'Probably, toss it over.'

Despair leaned the Bound Scythe against the railing to free his good hand. Serana lobbed the thing at him, who caught it and held it up to his face. It glowed with the same energy as the prison that held the Moth Priest. Satisfied, he plugged it into the hollow and looked up. The energy began to flicker and fade around the Moth Priest and Despair went down the stairs – picking up his weapon beforehand – to Serana and the captive's level. However as soon as the barrier faded completely, the Moth Priest roared in rage and attacked the duo.

'Die you monsters!' He called out, unsheathing his sword and flicking magic into his hand.

_A blades sword!?_ Despair thought as he recognized the curved design of the blade, however he couldn't dwell on it because the Moth Priest had started firing Fireball's at them.

Despair jumped to the side, using his scythe as a vault to extend the maneuver by flipping over it. Serana dodged the other way, casting a resurrection spell on one of the nearby corpses. Frowning, Despair chucked the harvester at the Moth Priest, freeing his only usable hand – but the elderly man swatted the larger weapon away with his own effortlessly.

Despair buffed himself quickly with the usual cast of Alteration armour and Lightning Cloak, following that he conjured two Dremora Lords one after the other, having them attack the enemy. 'Do not kill him!' Despair ordered his Daedra, though they showed no signs of understanding the order.

'A challenger is near!' They shouted, bringing their greatswords down on the old man – but instead of falling the Moth Priest hardly flinched, raising his own One-Handed sword up and catching _both _of the black blades before they fell.

'-How!?' Serana exclaimed in shock – this elderly man had almost casually blocked the attacks of _two _powerful Daedra. Was everyone they faced going to be unnaturally strong?

However, the form of the man began to tremble after a few seconds of holding the Dremora at bay. He yelled out in struggle and suddenly the three of them were enveloped in a massive explosion of flame.

_Firestorm!? With only one hand!?_ Despair paled behind his mask – he had expected a frail old man; not _this_. His lip curled and his mind raced, with only one arm there was so much he could do. He wasn't fast enough on deciding though, when the robed figure of the Moth Priest charged out of the flames and jabbed his sword at Despair.

Instinctively The Dragonborn turned on his heel – the blade almost hitting his casted arm, he avoided the sharp edge and spun around to face the Moth Priest. **'Zun! Hal! Viik!'** He shouted, sending the sword flying from the Moth Priests hand.

The mortal snarled and raised his hands, holding two charges of fire-based Destruction magic. Despair's mind suddenly twitched at the sight of the flaming orbs and his body jerked – fear and adrenaline rushing through madly in an instant. He crashed his right elbow into the Moth Priest's gut, making the man double over. Following it up by a knee to the face forced the priest back up and Despair went in for the final strike.

He reached out and grabbed the Moth Priest's head in his hand – the man's face in his palm. Despair saw his victim's eyes widen in fear from between his fingers for a second, before he administered the attack.

_Thunderbolt!_

Despair blasted the Expert-Level Destruction spell into the man's face; point-blank. There was a brilliant flash of light as the spell discharged and the man's body jerked violently, twitching erratically. After a few seconds, Despair dropped the figure and let it hit the ground, landing bonelessly limp. The Dragonborn panted heavily and slowly his battle-rush receded, just as Serana got to him.

'Despair, are you alright?' She asked sounding worried.

'I…think so…' He panted out. He looked down at the form of the Moth Priest before him.

'Did you kill him?' Serana asked.

'I…I don't know…' Despair raised his hand and cast Detect Life.

Nothing.

He frowned and cast Detect Death, and the Moth Priest's body lit up. Despair's features tightened in frustration.

'Well…?' Serana asked.

'He's…he's dead.'

Serana slapped her face, groaning. 'You idiot!' She berated Despair, slapping him in turn.

'I'm sorry!' Despair shot back, though truly apologetic. 'He was going to kill me; I didn't have time to think.'

Serana sighed in frustration. 'Well what do we do now then!? We can't read the Elder Scroll's ourselves, can we!?'

Despair went silent, that time on the Throat of the World was probably a one-time thing. Though he could feel the hum of his Elder Scroll in his bags as he thought about it.

'_Dovahkiin.'_ The voice of Alduin called out to him.

_What?_ He said angrily.

'_Perhaps I may be of use here.' _The dragon said. _I can bring Laas – life, back into Joor Kel Mindook – your "Moth Priest"._

Suddenly Despair felt a rising sensation within him, like something in his stomach that wanted to come back out of his mouth. It climbed higher, going up his esophagus and forcing its way out of his throat. Without thinking Despair suddenly felt as though he was throwing up but neither bile nor blood came out of his mouth.

'_**Slen! Tiid! Vo!'**_ The roar of Alduin returned to the mortal plane for a moment – shouted through the avatar of dragons. Serana flinched and jumped back a few feet in shock at the deep roar, falling on her ass. The effect of the Dragon Shout was instant however, and the previously dead Moth Priest began to rise to his feet in the wake of Alduin's resurrection shout. As Despair coughed in the Shout's backlashed he gave a quick thanks to Alduin for the help.

'_Naan Tiid, Dovahkiin.' _The dragon replied, slinking away deeper into Despair's consciousness for now.

'What…was that?' Serana asked tentatively.

'Alduin has a Shout that can resurrect dragons…I first witnessed it myself at Kynesgrove.' Despair cleared his throat. 'It seems to work well enough on men though too.'

As the priest rose fully he saw Despair and his face reeled in fear – though his body stiffly remained still. It appeared that he had been restored with all of his memories intact, though with a few restrictions on his ability to move. Despair regarded the man and spoke.

'You are no mere thrall, are you?' The Dragonborn asked.

'N-no…' The priest nervously said.

'Hmm…what is your name?' Despair asked.

The Moth Priest's throat clenched up then suddenly released. 'Dexion…Dexion Evicus…' He coughed out.

Despair witnessed the struggle and came to a conclusion. 'You are unable to disobey my requests, are you?'

'No…'

'Wonderful.' Dexion looked nervously at him. 'Don't worry, I won't make things uncomfortable if I can help it.' Despair reassured. He pulled both his and Serana's Elder Scroll's from his robes and handed them to the Moth Priest, whose eyes widened in shock and disbelief. 'I assume you know what these things are. I want you to go to…' His speech slowed and his eyes glanced at Serana. '…Heljarchen Hall, in the Pale just north of Whiterun.

Serana looked strangely at him but he continued.

'…Read them and when we return I want you to tell us what they say.' Despair ordered. 'Oh, and when you get there make sure to tell the redhead that I said you can make yourself at home.'

Dexion nodded, seemingly a bit more at ease – and left, leaving Despair and Serana alone. As soon as Dexion was out of sight, Despair suddenly collapsed and fell on the ground.

'Despair!' Serana called. 'Don't you dare do this again!' She shouted, kneeling down to check on him.

'Don't worry…I'm just a little tired it all.' Despair said, rolling over onto his back and looking up at her. 'The ground is more comfy than it looks, come join me.' He removed his mask, revealing a smile.

'Despair…' She complied, setting herself down next to him and lying on her side. 'You really are an idiot…' She let herself relax as she touched the ground. It had been a long day for both of them and only now could she feel it catching up on her. She hummed quietly to him as she pulled herself closer.

'…And we really need to start sleeping in beds.' He slid an arm around her, enjoying their closeness. Her face rested on his shoulder and she closed her eyes.

Again Despair found himself wondering whether this was a situation brought on by cruel circumstance, or something real between them. He had to know, he had to ask her what she thought – but doing so would be risky. Yes, no, yes, no…his thoughts juggled his brain and messed it up. Though if he wasn't so busy worrying he would have noticed the warm smile that was lit on her face as they held each other close, and the leg that she had curled over him and wrapped around his waist.

'Serana…' He began to say, but stopped as soon as he realized she was already asleep.

He exhaled and relaxed, letting his head touch the ground as he closed his eyes.

* * *

Quick word.

I've mentioned that I dont like guest reviews right...? Maybe on my F/Z fanfiction... Anyway - while I have no problems with criticism I dont enjoy reading something that states an opinion without backing it up with a reason. Furthermore it is hideously annoying when I cannot respond to said person or persons about their review and why they have said what they say.

Anyway - just keep that in mind dear readers, it'd be a huge, huge comfort for me and I thank you all in advance.

Hope you enjoyed. ^_^


	5. Tower of Light

Skyrim, 5th Chapter, tell me what you think so far - and of course enjoy.

I do not own the Elder Scrolls nor anything affiliated with it, merely my own ideas.

* * *

Serana woke first, slowly fluttering her eyes open and becoming attuned to the darkness. Immediately she became knowing of a presence extremely close to her, realizing it was Despair. She suddenly became aware of how close they were – how far her nose was tucked into his neck. Becoming more understanding of their position she found out that one of her legs was wrapped over his waist and both of her arms were are his chest – while one of his held her close.

Her mind reeled – not out of shock but more out of surprise. She subconsciously hummed in contentedness at their proximity, a smile rising on her face. She let herself return to his close embrace before her thoughts started running rampant in her head, thoughts regarding _him_.

_He…he saved me yes, but that's nothing to get all "I'll be by your side forever" over._ She thought, though another part of her mind disagreed.

_There's more to it than that though._ It said. _Even after Dimhollow I continued to fall for him. Yes it's true that I don't have anyone else to turn to – but even if I did I'd still go with Despair._

_Would you?_ Her inner cynicism contested.

_Yes I would. He cares about me, more than anyone else ever has. He…_ Her thoughts trailed off as she took the time to look at Despair's face. They were so close, possibly in more than just the current physical sense. Perhaps she needed to find the answer outside of her thoughts, yes that's what she would do – and she slowly came up with how.

She shifted ever so slightly so as to not to awaken him, bringing her face as close to his as possible. She smiled over his handsome, sleeping face for a moment, letting time linger on eternity for that moment. Then she moved in and ever so gently, laid her lips upon his cheek – silently asking herself the question of her feelings.

The soft kiss lasted little more than a few seconds, touching with just enough force to feel it but not wake him up in the process. To any other his skin would be cold as a corpse, but to her – one of the same body temperature it was perfect. Her lips remained on his pale cheek for a few seconds from the barest moment until she pulled away and went back to his neck.

Her pulseless heart raced and her mind went absurdly blank with emotion. Subconsciously she licked her lips – trying to savour his taste again. Her brain didn't even register her reaction – it was too busy making sure her body didn't explode – but one thing was certain.

She had her answer.

At that moment the closed lids of Despair's eyes squeezed tightly, and opened. As soon as his orbs flicked to consciousness he registered her, and smiled.

'Hey.' He said.

'…Hey.' She returned, nervousness lacing her voice – he hadn't noticed her action but that didn't stop her trembling inwardly like a leaf. If he noticed the slight in her voice he didn't let on.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, simply holding each other in silence and occasionally glancing at one another. After a while Despair let his arm go slack and Serana reluctantly rolled out of it. They rose to their feet together and checked their bearings briefly before setting off – she close behind he as they descended the stairs and side-by-side elsewhere. They reached the entrance to the cavern and exited.

Despair and Serana left Forebears' Holdout just as the moon hung at its high point in the sky. Instead of travelling back to Dragon Bridge though, the duo headed east and towards Morthal. Serana had insisted that they walk this time; horse riding was too fast to let any appreciation go into the environment, and they both agreed that Odahviing would not take too well if he began to think he was being used as a pack mule. As they walked, Despair experimentally tried to move his left arm, feeling the numbness since its being used disappear.

'Don't do that, otherwise we'll have to get it fixed again!' Serana chastised him, grabbing onto the arm to stop it from moving.

Despair stopped and put his eyes back on the dark road. As vampires it was clear as day for the pair, they barely registered the path itself as they walked over it. Serana was still looking around excitedly from time to time though, admiring this new part of Skyrim she hadn't seen before.

'We could do this a lot faster if I shifted into my Vampire Lord form.' Despair suggested, breaking the lengthy silence.

'No thanks…' Serana replied without hesitation, Despair could hear a small amount of distress in her voice. He regarded her more closely for a bit and she saw his eyes swim over her face as he tried to detect the source of her discomfort.

'What's wrong?'

She rubbed her arm nervously and looked down. Her walk slowed slightly and Despair turned around and stopped in front of her when he realized he was beginning to leave her behind.

'It's…the whole vampirism thing…' She confessed, looking up at him. 'You asked what a Daughter of Coldharbour was, right? I think I owe you an explanation.'

'Serana…I already said that if you didn't want to talk about it you don't have to.' He reminded her, reassurance all over his voice.

'…No, I need to get this out there.' She stiffened her body and jaw, preparing herself to divulge one of the most painful memories she had. Just as she opened her mouth however, Despair cut her off.

'Look I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me whatever this is…' He paused. 'But do we have to do this on the road?'

She suddenly remembered where they were and a light blush of embarrassment lit up her face. She trotted over to Despair's side and they started walking again. He slid an arm around her mid-section as they moved together in silence – the mood somber between them.

By the time they reached Morthal, Despair had noted that the moon had dropped faster than the two of them had anticipated. It would be daylight before they got to his house – Heljarchen Hall – and both agreed that it wouldn't be good to travel during the day. Despair whistled for Shadowmere, and the steed was swift in carrying both of its riders to the desired destination.

_**Heljarchen Hall, Edge of The Pale.**_

The sun broke over the horizon just as Despair's home came in sight. Residing on the snowy plateau was a large house – almost like a mansion – with three high balcony's and wings to the right, left and back of the structure. Shadowmere tried to stay within the long shadows the sun was casting and out of the light – but it became difficult as the sun rose. Fortunately they managed to arrive at the door without getting caught in any sunlight, dismounting and letting Shadowmere free until they next needed him.

'Aela! Oriella! I'm home!' Despair called into the house as he and Serana walked into the entrance hall. He dusted the snow from outside off of his boots and walked into the main hall, looking for his steward and resident bard. Serana remained in the entrance hall for a bit longer, admiring the various animal heads that decorated the walls and the weapons propped up in stands. She let her hand slide over one strange looking staff with three heads, each portraying different emotions – when suddenly she heard a feminine voice call out from deeper in the house;

'Harbinger?'

Serana's neck twitched as she twisted her head to look at the doorway leading into the main hall, quickly rushing to rejoin Despair's side before the other woman. When she got to him, she looked up and saw someone peering down from the upstairs loft.

A Nordic woman with red hair observed the pair from her vantage point. She was attractive in a rugged sort of way; three lines of green warpaint were smeared across her face. Her frame was lean but muscular, armoured in Ancient Nordic Armour without the helm. As she descended the stairs Serana eyed the woman.

'Despair, finally you come home after more than a week!' The woman – "Aela" – said, appearing a little annoyed with the man. 'And what have you done to yourself _this_ time!?' She yelled as she saw Despair's left arm in a cast.

Despair shifted sheepishly in response. 'It's nice to see you too.' He said.

Beside him, Serana chuckled inwardly as she recalled how Colette of the Mages College had expressed the same inflection upon seeing Despair again, it seemed that Despair had managed to both earn the respect _and _scorn of someone almost everywhere they'd been. Aela suddenly took regard of Serana, and her eyes shifted to the vampire momentarily before returning to The Dragonborn. 'As usual I trust you won't be staying long, will you?'

'To my immense sadness, no.' Despair smiled at the woman before turning to Serana. 'Aela this is Serana, Serana this is Aela; my steward.' He introduced the women.

'Nice to meet you.' Aela said.

'Charmed.' Serana returned – sincere. Despair however noted an undertone of jealousy in her words, though Aela failed to see it.

'Aela, did another man claiming to be a Moth Priest come here?' Despair asked, turning back to the redhead.

'Yes he did,' She sighed. 'He claimed to be here on your orders and that it was important – though he failed to tell me why other than that he needed a large room and no disruptions.'

'Did you let him in?'

'Yeah.' She said, though the way she did implied at some reluctance regarding the act itself. 'He's in the cellar right now, he asked for a bed to be moved down there and I haven't seen or heard from him since.'

'That's alright. Thanks Aela, where is Oriella by the way?' Despair asked, referring to the distinct lack of his songstress.

'She's on the balcony above the armoury.'

'Ah ok then.' He began to lead Serana past the other woman to the back of the house. 'Oh and, could you draw a bath?' He called back.

Aela left before answering, though Despair knew what that meant. He brought Serana to the back end of the main hall and kneeled down to unlatch the trapdoor into the cellar. As he fiddled with the lock Serana leaned down and squeezed his arm.

'Serana what is…' He realized what she was thinking about when he looked at her face. '…Oh sorry. Come on, I'll talk about Coldharbour with you now.' He had just about unlocked the trapdoor when he started getting up, but she stopped him

'No, don't!' She held him down. 'Just…don't forget, ok?'

He looked at her. 'I won't forget, I promise.' With that the sound of the lock clicked and the trapdoor bounced open. Despair pulled it up and revealed a ladder leading down into the cellar. He let Serana go first – holding her hand as she descended and going in after her – shutting the trapdoor behind him.

As his feet touched the floor of the cellar he heard a sharp intake of breath from Serana. He turned swiftly to see what Serana was reacting to, when he saw Dexion sitting on a chair – looking mournfully at Despair and Serana. The old, bald man in the silver robe smiled weakly at them as they neared.

'Good day, or evening – I have forgotten the time since coming here.' He said quietly to the two vampires.

'Dexion, you…' Despair began as he looked into Dexion's eyes – they were a milky white, no longer possessing coloured iris'.

'Yes I am blind, unfortunately.' A look of guilt crossed Despair's face as Dexion kept talking. 'Oh it isn't your fault, strictly speaking. When one undertakes a lifetime of searching for and reading Elder Scroll's, blindness is a consequence we're all taught at the beginning of our training.' He sighed. 'I did manage to read both of the Elder Scroll's you gave me though, and I can tell you what I discovered.'

Despair and Serana came to his side. In the candlelit cellar of Heljarchen Hall Dexion began to relay unto them what he saw.

'There was…a bow. The most beautiful bow I've ever seen, as though it was carved out of sunlight. It shone with a glorious radiance I've never seen before. I know this weapon; it was Auriel's Bow!' He exclaimed, as he continued talking Serana's face was one of mixed understanding and confusion but Despair's darkened. 'It referred to children of the night…and a dread lord rising from amongst them – the blood of their strongest being a key. And dragons, returning to the world in an era of strife. There was something also…about the day and night becoming one…' His voice trailed off.

Despair frowned. 'Was there anything more?' He asked the old man.

'No…' He breathed. 'It referred to another scroll for the rest of the prophecy…but I know not where.'

The three of them entered a silence, all engrossed within their own thoughts. The blind Moth Priest began to slump and look down at the ground when suddenly he felt a cold hand grab his shoulder. He looked up – though saw nothing but darkness – and felt the presence of his reviver looking at him.

'Thank you Dexion. I'm sorry this had to happen to you – but I need to get to the bottom of this prophecy.' Despair smiled in gratitude at the old man.

'Oh it's nothing. I'm simply fulfilling my duties as a Moth Priest.' Dexion reassured, though he felt a twinge of joy at the expressed thanks.

'I'd like you to stay here for a while longer, until I finish this business regarding the scroll's.' It was said nicely, but still an order. 'You can ask for anything you like from the ladies upstairs, and you're more than welcome to use the downstairs bedroom.'

'Thank you. The women have both been especially nice to me since I arrived – though the one in armour took a bit of time to warm up.' Dexion said.

Despair patted him on the shoulder before turning to Serana. She looked like she had something to say – more than just the Daughter of Coldharbour business – but Despair indicated for her to leave it till later until they were alone. Together they left the cellar and left the trapdoor unlocked for Dexion, when suddenly Despair's bard came running up to them, seeming out of breath. Her face was painted with worry and fear – Despair put his hands up and tried to calm the girl down so that she could talk. The atmosphere seemed suddenly ominous however, and Serana tensed.

'Despair!' She said hurrily. 'There's a bunch of High Elves outside, and they don't look like they're here for a mug of ale!' The woman exclaimed.

Despair understood the euphemism and looked to Serana, just as she did to him.

'Ancanor?'

'Probably, that Thalmor bastard doesn't know when to quit.'

Despair turned to the bard. 'Oriella, is one of them wearing Ebony Armour?'

Unfamiliar with the term, the girl looked nervously between the two and winged it. 'The leader on the horse is wearing a big set of black armour, is that it?'

'Yes, thank you.' Despair reached into his robe and pulled out Morokei, holding the mask in his hand and not putting it on. 'Oriella, stay inside the house until I come back.'

With that Despair and Serana rushed up the stairs above the armoury, exiting to the right-hand balcony of the house. The day was clear outside and Despair could see the group of Elves Oriella had mentioned standing in the field between them and the city of Whiterun about a hundred metres away. One was on horseback – garbed in Ebony gear just like at Nightcaller Temple. Despair didn't need to see his face to know who it was.

He came up to the railing – where Aela the Huntress was standing – and stood beside his Lycanthropic steward.

'How many?' He asked.

'Thirty.' She said darkly. 'Not including the leader.' She indicated to Ancanor atop his horse.

'Damn.' Despair grimaced. 'That's too many to be able to hold back. I doubt you could get a message to the Companion's in time, could you?' He deadpanned, the answer was obvious.

'Don't be stupid. What are you going to do?' She asked.

Despair frowned. He could see Ancanor looking at him from the distance between them. The Elf however didn't seem to have his haughty, proud attitude like he did before. Now he seemed more vengeful than anything – The Dragonborn couldn't tell, he'd have to get closer. He began to think of a plan to buy everyone time – at the very least he would ensure their survival.

'Aela. Head inside.' Despair ordered her.

'What!? But –!' The Huntress protested.

'That's an order. Go.'

Aela reluctantly obeyed her Harbinger and went into the house, leaving the two vampires out alone. Serana put her hand on his shoulder from his side and turned to him. 'Despair…' She began.

'Serana. I want you to promise me that you'll stay here, no matter what.' He turned to her.

'What!? Are you-!'

He cut her off. 'Listen to me. I have a plan that might get us out of this mess. We can't fight all of them – so I'm going to propose a one-on-one with Ancanor; the loser leaves.' He explained. 'I'm not planning on sacrificing myself, but if that's what it takes then I'm willing to do it to save you.'

'Despair, you don't have to–'

'Do you have a better plan? You and the other three need to be ready to run away if I fall. Don't worry – I won't let him get me this time. Trust me.' Despair lifted Morokei to his face and put it on. He began to walk to the steps when Serana grabbed his arm and stopped him.

'Look – at least let me go down there with you! What if they trick you and all attack!?' She asked.

'That isn't a problem; I've been in plenty in unfair fights and won. You need to stay back here and watch – this is probably pushing it as a safe distance as it is. Promise me you will.'

She was hesitant, but complied. '…I will.'

'Thank you. Don't worry – I'm The Dragonborn, no Elf is going to do me in.' He chuckled. To her surprise she was suddenly pulled in to a tight hug. Her arms were trapped between him and her as she was embraced by him, her face in his neck. Almost as suddenly he let go – to her chagrin – and turned, descending the stairs into the snow covered ground.

He marched through the snow to the grassy plains that the Elven host waited on. He barely walked a few steps when he heard Serana's voice yelling for him. 'Despair!' She called. He turned around – robes whipping in the wind – to look at her.

'Come back alive or I swear I'll kill you again!'

He smiled behind the mask and turned back to his waiting foe, walking stoutly.

_**...**_

Despair stopped when he stood a few metres in front of Ancanor's horse. The Elf glared down at him and Despair saw that he was worse for wear than the last time he had seen the Thalmor agent.

The scars left from Despair's Bound Talon's had healed – but harshly. Across the side of his face there were several thick, worm-white scars that stood out painfully. His eye that had been scratched at was no longer there – replaced by a black eye patch with three cords. He scowled angrily at Despair and curled his lip. He tugged on his horses reins – beckoning the animal to rear at Despair – a wasted intimidation tactic, but The Dragonborn noticed the odd stiffness that plagued the Elf's right arm.

'The Thalmor will not stand for your continuous insults, vampire! And nor will I!' Ancanor declared. 'It seems you have the courage to die honourably by our hand.' Ancanor said.

'If that's what you call courage then I'd be one of the most cowardly men who ever lived.' Despair shot back. 'I challenge you to a duel, Elf!' He shouted. 'Or are you too weak to defeat me?'

Ancanor shifted. 'As I recall I almost killed you last time we fought.' He jerked his head at Despair's cast. 'Why would you challenge me again, fool!? Your little seductress isn't here to save you now, you left her behind!'

Skyrim's savior forced back a snarl at Ancanor's insult to Serana. 'Then what are you waiting for!?' Despair shouted back, rage trickling his voice despite his best efforts.

'Hah! And I would risk losing, why would I do that why I have my army behind me!?'

'Ancanor.' Despair called the Elf by name. 'Are you hiding behind your soldiers because you are too weak without them?'

'What!? I-!' But Despair cut him off.

'During the Civil War; I led armies of legionnaires' to victory across Skyrim. We fought honourable sons and daughters of Skyrim at the Thalmor's behest – fighting a hardworking peoples attempt at freedom!' He shouted. 'I ended it, by cutting down a great man who was fighting for a cause that he gambled his life on. I learned something though – by cutting down Ulfric Stormcloak – I learned that the leader of an army possesses the sum total of that army. When he died his forces died with him – because they were as strong as he; and he as strong as they!'

Despair swung his right arm out in an arc, emphasizing his words. 'A leader is as strong as the force he wields because he wields it! Kill that leader – you kill that force! I possess the strength of all the soldiers I led because I led them!'

'Hah! Are you seriously suggesting that because I lead these soldiers I am as strong as all of them combined!?' Ancanor scoffed.

'That's exactly what I'm saying! A battle can we won by killing the lord of the field because within them is the power of their army! I kill you, and your men will all die the same – you kill me, and you can cut down any who have ever rallied behind me!' Despair kept going, hoping his gambit would work. 'Challenge me on your own and decimate me with the same ability as you would were all of your men involved! Prove that you are stronger!'

'Hah! Very well, vampire! Your words amuse me!' Ancanor dismounted his horse and drew both of his Ebony Sword's. 'Get back! I'll take him alone!' He barked at his soldiers. All of them took a few tentative steps back – creating a large circular clearing for the two combatants.

Despair watched as Ancanor took his place – his features were contorted in a furious scowl but his eyes burst with euphoric bloodlust.

'I defeat you; and you're men leave – regardless of whether they go with a loser or a corpse.' Despair said.

'Done. And when I kill you…I put all your friends to the sword – and burn that bitch of yours at the stake!' Ancanor shouted back.

A murderous grin grew on Despair's face behind the mask. His eyes glowed a bloody red and shone through the holes of Morokei – signaling the entranced of his berserker state. He lifted his arm and curled his fingers over nothing – a Bound Scythe suddenly appearing out of thin air. The Dragonborn pulled the weapon to his side and twirled it, then assumed a battle stance. He locked eyes with his foe, and the fight began.

_**Back at Heljarchen.**_

Serana watched in worry as she saw the distant shapes of Despair and Ancanor stand opposite each other. She considered disobeying his orders to go help him, but resisted by a force as strong as the one beckoning her to him. She could hear Aela and Oriella help Dexion around the house from outside. Momentarily Serana wondered whether Dexion could be a useful ally – even if he was blind they could direct him where to cast his magic.

She watched as Despair conjured the harvesting polearm in his hand and twirled it. Her eyes saw the stiff forms of Ancanor and Despair turn as still as glass – readying themselves for battle. Then suddenly she felt it.

A tremendous malevolent feeling rushed over her, spreading out like a wave from the scene she was watching. It was so deep, so dense, and so terribly dark. In her youth she had once seen Harkon change into the Vampire Lord and she had been frozen stiff with primal fear at the evil energy pouring out from him – but this was different. Despair's was so vast that it was like comparing a pond to the ocean, a bat to a dragon.

She was scared witless of him as much as she was afraid that he would fall.

_**The Duel.**_

Ancanor had attacked first – ignoring the sudden unrest that had come over his men – and slashed the sword in his right hand at Despair. The Dragonborn had parried it easily with the blunt end of the shaft – using the momentum to swing the crescent blade at Ancanor's head. The Elf lifted the sword in his left hand to block it and caught the attack, halting it. Before he could do anything though, Despair had leaped forward and crashed his knee into Ancanor's nose.

The Elf staggered back and groaned. When he stopped he rubbed his bloody face with the back of his fist, scowling at the drawn blood. He looked up at his opponent and growled. Ancanor sheathed the weapons in his hands and flickered flame Destruction magic into his hands, grinning at the recollection of what had worked so well on this enemy.

Despair froze at the sight of the fire in Ancanor's hands. Adrenaline shot through his system and he swung the scythe down – sinking the blade into the ground. With his free hand he summoned a Dremora Lord, then a second one after that. Despair picked up the polearm again and charged forth between the two Daedra, coming down on Ancanor.

The Elf was shocked at the three-way onslaught. Panicking, he fired one of the spells at Despair – only for the magical missile to be swatted away one of the Dremora's blades. When they reached him – both of the Daedra crouched down and stabbed their massive swords at his gut, forcing Ancanor to step back – and bring his head right into the swinging arc of Despair's Bound Scythe.

The blade caught Ancanor right into the left side of the head and blasted him over – knocking him to the floor. 'GAAAAAAAHHH!' He screamed out in pain. The large arc of Despair's strike meant that he couldn't strike again within the next few seconds but the Dremora were already bringing their huge swords down on the fallen form of Ancanor. The Altmer rolled out of the way just in time – two huge gashes being carved into the ground he'd just been on. He got to his feet – one hand clutching the place the scythe had hit him – and fired several shots of Fireball at Despair – only for the Dremora to stand in the way and tank it.

'DIE!' Ancanor roared and drew one of his Ebony Sword's. Swiftly he sliced through the bellies of both Dremora – killing them – and set his sights on Despair. Both men regarded each other and Ancanor took the time to heal his grievous wound.

The scythe's blade had cut through his ear completely and left a painful cut in his head – but it had largely been blocked by the heavy Ebony Helmet he wore – which was now exposed on the left side. The Restoration magic only proved good enough to partially heal – the bleeding and pain had stopped but his ear was now deformed and mixed with heavy scar-tissue.

Suddenly Despair lunged and butted Ancanor with the blunt end of his shaft – the attack blocked by Ancanor's blade.

'Is this the power of the Thalmor!?' Despair roared. 'How **insignificant!**'

He kicked wildly at Ancanor – hitting the Thalmor's chest plate solidly. The thick armour meant that it did no damage and Ancanor barely stepped back. Taking his chance he pulled his other blade out and swung in an arc of two at Despair.

Despair managed to parry the attack – but with only one arm to defend it was too strong and he could only divert it. The two shining black blades sliced through Despair's torso in a shallow but fast strike. Ancanor went on the offensive – swinging both his blades with one behind the other in a fast flurry of attacks. Despair parried them all, but each time he did the blades were only diverted and would continue to nick another part of his body. The cuts were numerous and a few of them had been deep enough to sever several blood vessels, Despair's body was losing blood fast – even his berserker rush couldn't keep up with it.

Suddenly his body moved just a fraction too slowly and Ancanor's blades passed his parry. The Thalmor screamed out in triumph as both of his swords sliced deeply in quick succession across Despair's chest – guarded by nothing but the cloth of his Arch-mage robes.

'GAA-AAAHHH!' He screamed in pain, a bright shower of blood spraying out from the deep gash. He staggered back and Ancanor moved again – this time in a scissor attack with both blades coming in from each side. With the last of his breath Despair managed to react before the fatal strike finished.

'**Tiid! Klo! Ul!'** Despair unleashed the Thu-um, slowing time to his will.

He stepped back and out of the way of the High Elf's attacks. He used the power of the shout to cast Restoration magic on himself – though he was more interested in healing, so the pain remained. Despair cast Alteration armour and Lightning Cloak over his body as time continued to move at a lesser rate. Going into the fight without his buffs was stupid – he hadn't realized it in his berserker state – and only because time was so slow he could now, the moment the effects of the shout ended he'd return to his bloodlust.

His instincts told him that a few seconds of the Shout remained. Despair lunged forth between the in-motion blades of Ancanor and reached out, placing his right hand on the Ebony chest plate. He used the last dregs of the Slow Time Shout to catch his Dragon Shouting-breath, and roared out a second Thu'um.

'**Strun! Bah! Quo!' **Despair roared out in unison to time restarted – a shockwave blasting out from the sheer sound of his voice.

'DIE, VAMPIRE!' Ancanor screamed as his scissor-swing finished, striking Despair and embedding the Ebony Sword's several centimetres into his upper torso, under the arms. A thick lump of blood dripped to the ground from behind the mask as Despair coughed. The crimson lights in his eyes began to flicker weakly, before finally blackening out. The Elf's eyes opened wide in shock. Despair's body still glowed with the Alteration armour and the electricity of Lightning Cloak – but his foe failed to notice.

'I win!' Ancanor smiled madly in his victory. 'Now I'll kill all of your-!' His voice was cut off by a loud rumble from above.

He looked up – squinting his one good eye as rain began to fall. The clouds above were as black as shadows and would have dwarfed the gigantic form of Alduin himself. The Elven forces around Ancanor and the near-dead Despair began to shift nervously, looking up at the black sky with fear.

Stuck on swords; Despair suddenly began to move in front of Ancanor. The pool of blood at his feet was collecting and growing alarmingly fast. The crimson light suddenly came back to life and The Dragonborn's head looked up at the Altmer. He pressed the hand on Ancanor's chest into him, reminding him that it was there. Flashes of lightning began to burst in the sky and the electricity cloaking Despair's body began to flash brighter, jumping erratically all over him.

'…Not…quite…' The vampire struggled to get out through a pool of blood in his mouth.

Immediately Ancanor suddenly realized the danger of his situation as his mind returned to sanity, the high of victory fading. He tried to pull his swords out of Despair's body – but they were stuck in too deep.

_Full Ebony Armour…heh…_Despair thought weakly as he readied his final attack. _That'll be a great conductor for lightning…_

He roared out the name of the attack as he discharged it. **'THUNDERBOLT!'**

The shout echoed over the plains but was immediately silenced by a flash of lightning. Despair had used the conduction of Ebony metal to focus his Expert-Level Destruction spell solely on Ancanor. He coupled it with the elemental synergy of his Lightning Cloak to increase the power – and used the whole setup as a massive conductor for the storm his last shout had summoned.

And it had worked beautifully.

In an instant a tower of raw lightning dropped on them. It blasted everything within a 30-metre radius into dust and blackened the ground under Despair's feet. The pure power of the strike had decimated the Thalmor forces – to say nothing of the two in the centre of the destructive pillar.

Over at Heljarchen Hall Serana was almost blinded by the display – her heart wrenched within her chest as she saw her savior and his enemy disappear in the tower of light. Her hands gripped the railing so hard that the wood shattered. No words described her fear and no thoughts could process what she was feeling.

The massive lance of lightning twisted and writhed where Despair had called it. It hadn't disappeared in an instant as normal lightning would have, but remained driving power for as long as Despair channelled lightning magic into Ancanor's metal frame.

More than a minute passed before the lightning strike ended. The moment it did Serana rushed over to the battlefield.

At the centre of Despair's destructive gambit the two figures stood perfectly still. He still had his hand on Ancanor's chest, trembling. Despair gave the lightest of pushes – all that his strength could muster – and Ancanor went sprawling down.

The Elf landed on his back, limbs splayed out. His hands hadn't let go of the handles to his Ebony Sword's, instead they had simply disintegrated – the breakdown going as far as his elbows. Ancanor's stumps crackled with electricity. Where Despair's hand had been was a blackened print over the Ebony Armour – which was cracked and threatened to fall apart at any minute, not that it mattered. Ancanor's skin was burned black and the flesh had been seared down to the bone. If he got up, it would be a miracle of the Divines.

Despair himself let his arm drop. Compared to Ancanor he was almost untouched by the lightning – it had all been _his_ after all. His skin was perfectly fine and not an inch of his attire appeared touched. However the blood loss, fact that Ancanor's swords were still stuck in him and the effect that the intense heat from the lighting had on him were still enough to put him right at Sithis' door.

He buckled and fell to his knees, falling heavily. The rest of his body began to follow suit and he let out a dull moan as his head hit the ground. Dark shapes swan in front of his eyes and the world was turning black. The last thing he remembered was the call of a sweet voice and the pounding of approaching feet.

_Serana…_

* * *

__Hope you all enjoyed that, an' leave a review if you please.

Anyone who thinks my character is becoming a little too Mary Sue-ish can quietly take their Trophy of Rightness and sit in the corner, or am I wrong about that? Anyway, I try to balance all this stuff that my character is capable of doing by making him extremely weak to certain things. Fire for instance, and the fact that he wears mage robes means that taking a direct hit of almost anything is very bad. Very, very bad. Hope that justifies it if you think he's too powerful, and if not...then why the hell are you still reading?


	6. Masquerade

New chapter, long chapter, no fighting. Trying to bring the story back on track - though through a different route to the actual questline. Hope you like it, leave a review!

I do not own the Elder Scrolls nor anything affiliated with it, only my own ideas.

* * *

Darkness, again. Despair knew several kinds of darkness' so well they were almost like friends, or enemies. The darkness of shadows, hiding all sorts of monsters and providing cover for the unlawful. The darkness of monsters themselves, such as Harkon and his ilk. The darkness of the low emotions within sentiency; the fear within mortals or the cruelty within dragons. There was the darkness of sleep, then of death – so similar that the only difference is that one ends. The empty void of truth was one such that Despair knew very well; only eclipsed by the one darkness he knew best of all – his own.

Nevertheless, Despair currently found himself within an abyssal darkness of infinite proportions and accompanied by a physical darkness; one more reputed than his own.

'_Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin.'_ The heavy voice of Alduin said to Despair, sitting on a small tower of rocks within the imagined terra of the inner world.

Despair rubbed his head as he pulled himself up to a sitting position; his body in snow. 'Alduin. Here again?'

'_It would appear so, Sos Dov. Krosis, I do not know why you have returned this time.'_ The old dragon said.

Despair himself had difficultly calling the past within his mind, then he suddenly remembered. 'Ancanor! The Thalmor!' He exclaimed. He looked up at Alduin – who had a look of puzzlement on his face. 'Weren't you watching the battle from within?'

'_No, I was…barred from witnessing the conflict. Your mind was Kest Nah – berserk. I could not see.'_ The dragon replied.

'I see.' Despair rose to his feet. 'The Elf – the captain from Northwatch Keep – tried to invade my home and kill everyone.'

'_So you slaughtered him?'_ Alduin finished._ 'Impressive. Most befitting of a Dov Ah, Dovahkiin.'_ Alduin used the dual meaning of Despair's birthright – to be born as a dragon and to be born to hunt dragons.

'There was little else I could do.' Despair sighed. 'It isn't like I regret it, I feel that I may have overdone it.'

Alduin perked his head up slightly, indicating that he didn't know what his host was referring to. Despair sighed and called on the memory within his mind, preparing his voice. He began to channel a small part of his soul and brought it out – the same way the Greybeard's had taught Despair how to use the Thu'um to begin with. Suddenly he shouted a word at Alduin – the dragon word for "know".

'**Mindok!'**

The pulse of air hit Alduin and the larger creature blinked in surprise, but when he opened his eyes there was a sense of knowing. Despair then channeled the small part of his dragonic soul that would allow Alduin to understand what had transpired during the duel and offered it to the World-Eater, letting it flow between them. After a few moments passed Alduin began to laugh.

'_Ho ho ho ho, how destructive. I admire you, Dovahkiin. Only a Dov after my own Sil – Soul, would be capable of such…Lah Aal.'_ The dragon shifted his wings, clinging to the rock beneath him. _'But what shall you do now, Dovahkiin? You are no nearer to your answers than before you killed the Elf.'_

Despair's eyes shifted and regarded his parasite-prisoner with suspicion. Alduin felt the curling lip from behind Morokei's mask as he looked back at Despair. 'Alduin. What did you call yourself when we first battled, on the Throat of the World – in Mundus?'

The dragon blinked. _'Zu'u Alduin; Firstborn of Akatosh.' _He said the words with immense pride, swelling in size as he did so.

'Akatosh is chief of the Nine Divines – but that's only in the culture of men, in the Elvish Pantheon; he is Auri-El, correct?'

'_Dovahkiin, if you are asking about the Revak Drog Mer…I'm afraid I cannot-'_

'World-Eater.' Despair said sternly. 'What do you know of Auriel's Bow?'

Alduin almost slipped off of his perch as Despair posed the question. It took him so suddenly that he had to dig his claws deeper into the rock to prevent falling. The great black dragon stared in surprise for several minutes at The Dragonborn before finally answering. _'Auriel's Bow… Zun Jun Krein – weapon of the sun. Akatosh represents Tiid – time, but Auri-El is Jun – light.'_

'Tell me what you know, Dov.' Despair pushed.

'_It was the weapon of Auri-El himself, used in the battle to create Nirn from Lorkhan's corpse. I know not where it is hidden – if that is your desire.' _He bowed his head in apology.

'And what is it used for?' Despair asked.

'_Used for? Joor Nis Kod Zun Jun Krein – mortals cannot wield it.' _Alduin suddenly remembered who he was speaking to._ 'It draws a direct connection to Atherius, though the sun. Other than being extremely powerful – I do not know how one would use it.'_

'What about its place in prophecy's, or in relation to vampires?'

Alduin shrugged his massive wings. _'Krosis Dovahkiin. I do not know. You would have better luck asking Sos Ra…'_ Alduin suddenly stopped, remembering the last time he had called the vampire female who accompanied Despair a "Blood Animal" that things had not gone well. _'..Fahdon Dovahkiin.'_ He settled.

Despair's brow furrowed at the lack of information that he could easily use. Nevertheless he expressed his thanks to Alduin, who bowed his head as a sign of humility in return. Suddenly Despair's body began to fade – and the old dragon did his best impression of a parting smile.

'_It appears that you are needed on Nirn. Until next we meet, Dovahkiin. Tiid Unslaad.'_ Alduin bid farewell as Despair disappeared from the inner world of his soul and his consciousness rose to the surface, returning to the mortal world.

* * *

The first thing Despair felt when he woke up was an immense amount of pain ravaging his body. The second thing he felt was a soft hand wrapped around his own right one. Opening his eyes and blinking furiously in spite of the pain that bereaved him, he recognized the porcelain skin of the hand around his own, traced up the arm that was connected to it and saw Serana, slumped and sleeping in a chair.

He was lying in a bed – his bed, in Heljarchen Hall. Oddly, it didn't feel as comfortable as he remembered – though he could chalk that up to the massive agony he was in right now due to the aftermath of his fight with Ancanor, or that the rumour that vampires only slept in coffins actually had some legitimacy. The room was as he remembered it – except for the fact that his Arch-mage robes were hanging on the wall nearby, as well as his Dragonscale Boots and Gauntlets and Morokei being under them.

Looking down he found his bare torso exposed, his flesh was pale and covered with light scarring – a thick set of bandages were wrapped around his body at the pectoral height, covering the vicious wounds from Ancanor's scissor attack. His muscular frame hadn't diminished since becoming a vampire, if anything the already defined and lean figure that dragonslaying, adventuring and jaywalking had crafted had improved. Though when he remembered his – albeit sleeping – company, he became painfully aware of his partial nudity.

A quick sensory check told him that he was – thankfully – wearing pants under the sheet.

He let his breathing go level and looked around the rest of the room. Over on a table was a bag of medical supplies and paper notes, though belonging to whom was a mystery – Aela didn't have even basic healing training, and he doubted they'd let the visually impaired Dexion be his healer – despite the man's apparent magical ability – if _One-Handed Firestorm's_ were anything to go by.

Growing bored, Despair gave a quick squeeze to the pale hand holding his and he watched Serana's eyes flutter open as she stirred. As soon as she lifted her head from its resting position she saw him – awake and smiling gently at her – then she tackled him.

'You idiot!' She screamed as she leaped into a flying hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. 'How could you do that to me!? How could you even think of risking your life like that!?'

She pounded her forehead into his shoulder – drawing pained winces from The Dragonborn. Her eyes welled up with the beginnings of tears as she rocked violently in the hug, and then settled down into a still form. Serana's face was deep in Despair's neck as she lay on him side-on, her cold breathes running across his skin. Slowly, he brought his right hand up and around her torso – resting it on her back. He wrapped his arm and held her in the hug, unsure of what to say. He was about to try something when suddenly the door burst open and his eyes jerked to see who it was. As he recognized the person though, he tried vainly to cower beneath Serana's body.

Winterhold's foremost magician of Restoration stood in her grey robes and a dark travelling cloak. She was not amused.

'I didn't know the mages did house calls now.' He said stupidly, trying to lighten the situation.

Colette sighed and walked over to Despair's bedside on the left, frowning the entire time. 'I knew you would get yourself into trouble again, but I didn't think even _you_ would do it this soon. Honestly Despair can you not lead a normal life – even for a few days?' She put her hands on her hips.

'Fate cursed me when I was born, you know that.' He said lightly.

'Regardless, you charge headfirst into danger without thinking far too often – even for someone in Skyrim.'

'That isn't true – I'm always thinking about how I'll kill my enemies. It's very hard to maintain two Dremora and an array of buff spells – just ask your collegu-' Despair started.

'Shut up! Do you have any idea on the impact you have on those around you!? The poor girl was so distraught!' She indicated to Serana. ' – I almost couldn't understand what she was saying. And then she tells you ran into a couple of swords and dropped a _thunderstorm on yourself_!?'

Despair smiled sheepishly, though the guilt was creeping up on him more than he let on.

'Really, she was such a mess I didn't know what to do with her! And then _you_…' Colette looked outright murderous at Despair. 'Do you know what you've done to yourself!? Due to that little stunt, you've completely fried your ability to perform spells!'

Despair paled completely, his very soul shook to the core when she said that.

'Granted, were it any other mage it'd be permanent, so I imagine you'll be torching Draugr again within the week. Though you better spend a very long time saying thank you to whoever or whatever twist made you Dragonborn.' Colette lectured. 'On the bright side though…'

She leaned down and punched Despair's left arm – prompting the sarcastic Breton to jerk it back and wrap it around Serana in tandem with his right arm, not noticing the fact that he had managed to move it.

'…Your arm's healed.'

Upon closer inspection Despair realized that his arm had in fact, healed. The bone was mended as though it was never broken and he gave it several experimental movements before Colette brought his attention back to her.

'You've already been asleep for three days – though whether that accounts to your magical ability restoring I don't know – and Serana hasn't left your side once. Dexion is upstairs with Oriella and your steward is on standby with several cups of tea for you – though I hinted to her that you probably can't pallet normal food like a normal person anymore.'

'Don't imply that I was ever normal, Colette.' He responded witfully. 'And tea is fine.'

Colette sighed again and got up, about to leave when she suddenly stopped. 'Oh yes, a courier came by yesterday and wanted to give this to you – he said it was urgent.' The Restoration mage reached into her robes and pulled out a small slip of paper, handing it to Despair. 'I'm going to be here until tomorrow should you need anything – though you'll probably be off within the hour anyway.' She made her way to the door and was about to exit when Despair called out.

'Colette!' He paused. 'Thank you.' Referring to all the treatment.

'Don't make it a habit, Arch-mage.' She said as she left.

Despair kept looking at the door for a couple of seconds, and then he was suddenly reminded of the face buried in his shoulder when Serana nipped at his neck with her teeth.

'Ow, hey!' He yelped.

She lifted her head and looked up at him – their faces hardly more than a few centimetres apart – and smiled. Her eyes were a bit puffy and watery, but to him she still looked beautiful. 'Don't do that again.' She told him.

'I can't promise that…' He began to say – she frowned. '…but I can promise that as long as it's in my power I'm not going to die on you.'

Serana looked at him for a little bit, pondering the meaning of that. Her eyes stared into his – and then she suddenly rose off of him, standing. 'That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?' She chuckled.

'Yeah…' He smiled back.

'Read the note, what does it say?' She nodded at the slip of paper in his hand – Despair had almost forgotten about it. He brought it up to his middle and opened it, peering into the contents. Even without reading he suddenly reeled back in surprise.

'Serana…it may just be me…' He turned it over to let her see the contents. '…but does this look like blood to you?'

Her eyes widened as she beheld the crimson letters on the page. He frowned, his assumptions confirmed, and brought the page back for him to read it.

'Despair,' He began to read aloud. 'You are honourably invited to Castle Volkihar's annual Masquerade Ball, held in Castle Volkihar on the 9th of Evening Star.' He stopped reading for a second, his eyes drifting over the last part in case he had misread. Realizing he hadn't, he continued; 'As one of Lord Harkon's chosen few that possess his bloodline, you are a member of high importance and we would be flattered to entertain your presence. Please consider attending.' The letter leaked with so much sycophancy that almost made Despair sick to read it. Though he could understand the situation a little.

_Harkon is in a coma…and Serana's mother is outside of anyone's reach._ He looked to Serana. _She and I are the only ones that possess the "true" bloodline._ There was still a little bit of the letter to go, and he kept reading.

'I understand that Lady Serana has taken a liking to you and if you are within communication we would appreciate it if you passed on the message to her.' Despair read out. 'Our couriers have been as of yet unable to locate her.' Despair's eyes descended to the last few centimetres to the page. '…Signed, Garan Marethi.'

Serana looked down at him, a knowing look on her face. 'Father was always planning these things before I was put into that tomb – he said that it felt "fitting" for what he calls; "the vampire nobility".'

'Did you ever attend?'

'No. It's an event that usually requires pairs, and besides he always said I was too young for it.' She replied.

Despair mumbled something unintelligible, looking down at the note. Then suddenly he looked back up at her and said; 'I think we should go.'

'What!?'

'Think about it. As far as Volkihar court goes, you and I are the closest things they have to a royal family – not including Harkon in his coma. Aside from the treatment we'd get, there is a customary reason we have to go. More than that though, there isn't much else we can do; without my ability to perform magic I'm useless – so adventuring isn't a good idea. And don't forget that we have no idea where either your mother or her Elder Scroll is.'

Serana took some time to think about his reasoning. 'Even so, what if they attack us?' She said, the idea plausible enough without any backing up – the court of Volkihar were still _vampires _above all.

'They won't. I am a chosen receiver of Harkon's bloodline – and you are his daughter. We'll be alright.' He reassured.

Serana sighed, giving in. 'You know that you'll have to wear something nice, your Arch-mage robes won't cut it. Nor will that Dragon Priest mask that you love so much.'

'I figured. Will you be wearing something nice then?' He asked, a sly smile crept up on his face. She didn't respond and Despair let it drop. He decided that it was about time to get out of bed, pushing the covers off his torso and sitting up. With a groan he stretched his legs out and swung them off the bed – only to fall down onto the bed and wince in pain.

'What's wrong?' Serana quickly came to his side, leaning over him.

'It's…the wounds Ancanor left. I'll be ok – just give me a bit of time.' He stopped cringing and rose back up to a sitting position. Slowly – with the help of Serana – he rose off the bed, luckily he had no trouble standing, though his legs ached a little. Quickly he slipped into his usual gear – Serana leaving for a few minutes while he changed out of the trousers and into the full set of the Arch-mage robes out of modesty.

When he left the ground-floor bedroom he had been staying in, he was greeted with the ever-smiling face of his bard, a now blindfolded Dexion, two sternly disapproving women – both opposite ends of the spectrum; Huntress-Werewolf and Restoration-mage, and of course; Serana.

After a quick sortie involving more lecturing The Dragonborn, insisting tea and a good song, Dexion asking for help to the restroom and Despair trying his best not to be suspicious when he denied food from his steward – he and Serana set off. It was only a minute or so until Shadowmere came trotting faithfully to Heljarchen Hall's doorstep at the call of his master.

'I want you to take Shadowmere to Icewater Jetty, I'll meet you at Volkihar.' Despair said to Serana, putting his hand on the black steeds side.

'What, why!? I thought you said we were going to go together!' She protested.

'We will, unless you want someone else trying to grope Volkihar's Princess all night – I just need to do something in Whiterun.'

'Why can't I come with you? You aren't going to leave me alone there are you!?' She asked, growing in volume.

'Don't worry; you'll barely notice I'm not there.' He lifted her up onto Shadowmere's back, helping her take the reins and prepare to ride.

'What's so important you can't bear to bring me with you – that I have to go to Volkihar now!?' She screeched at him.

He grinned. 'Paying a visit to the tailor.' He slapped Shadowmere's rear, sending the horse off with Serana.

'Despair! You better not do anything stupid!' She called back.

'I won't!'

_**Whiterun.**_

It wasn't long before Despair was showered in calls of; 'Hail, Thane!' from passing guards, even by foot. Relatively quickly he made it to Whiterun – fortunately not running into any animals or bandits, the only real form of protection he had was his knife and the Dragonscale armour on his limbs. He wasn't sure whether he could still use the Thu'um if his magical powers were temporarily fried, but he didn't want to call attention to himself by testing – especially from any nearby dragons. Walking up the hill that led to the city gates, Despair entered the city.

_Don't do anything stupid…_He began to chant in his head as he walked further into the city, looking for somewhere he could get something nice made – Radiant Raiment in Solitude wasn't an option – those girls were the height of elitist fashion, and he'd had enough of Elves for a while…_.Don't do anything stupid…Don't do anything stupid…Don't do anything stupid…_

'_No chance of that happening anytime soon, Dovahkiin.'_ The voice of Alduin said mockingly from inside his mind.

_Shut up, Wyrm! _He returned to his mantra…_.Don't do anything stupid…Don't do anything-_

A dark skinned man in a fine outfit walked up to Despair. 'Do you get to the cloud district very ofte-' **THWACK!**

Despair's hand had moved on its own, in all honesty. He hadn't intended to backhand Nazeem so hard that it knocked the pompous git into the pavement and sent several splashes of blood flying from the man's nose and mouth. It had just…kinda happened. None of the guards seemed to even try to stop him though and if he wasn't so focused on repeating his mantra in his head he would have heard the quiet sound of someone applauding.

_Where can I find someone to make me some good clothes…?_ He wondered.

_**Icewater Jetty.**_

Serana had refused to go to Castle Volkihar without Despair. Shadowmere had long since left her – having completed his master's errand. She stood out in the screaming cold by the water's edge, the small boat that would lead them to Volkihar ready to go at any moment.

_Come on Despair…where are you?_ She looked into the howling blizzard that tore around her, even the new batch of Elves at Northwatch Keep nearby had all gone inside. In fairness, the cold was nothing to her and the constant pelting of the snow was unacknowledged by the vampire. Even so, she was still very, very unhappy.

Last time he and she had separated since Dimhollow Crypt he had pulled a storm down on himself in a suicidal gambit. Granted, he had survived and he had even known that he wouldn't be killed by something as small as that – but it had still frightened all of Oblivion out of her. She had almost lost him.

Regarding the man though – her savior – he had become more than just the only person she could turn to. Much more. The night in Nightcaller Temple – they had slept on top of each other and she had been _very _hesitant to get up. Then after they had found, fought, killed and resurrected the Moth Priest – they had spent several hours together so close that one may had initially assumed they were just one person. There was also the matter of the "test" that she had run herself through – regarding her feelings – and the answer it had yielded.

The terror that had run through her when he had almost died in his electrical tomb for Ancanor had torn her emotions to shreds, only salvaged when she realized he had somehow survived. Her heart had jumped when he squeezed her hand and she had only gotten off of him after her strangling hug because she feared she would have done something silly.

Like kiss him.

_Technically again._ She mused. Yes, she couldn't deny the strong attraction she had for Despair, as well as the emotional aspect that had developed and was starting to bloom. However, the only problem was whether he felt those things for her. He was a snarky git – but he was also genuinely nice to everyone around him – that wasn't an enemy. Maybe the affection she had shown him was just his normal way of dealing with people – though a hopeful little part in her prayed that wasn't the case.

She'd just have to wait and see.

Just as she was leaving her thoughts, a dark silhouette began to appear in the white blizzard. As it got closer Serana recognized the whipping tails of Winterhold's Arch-mage robes flapping in the wind and relief flooded over her. Though the figure stopped suddenly when she thought it saw her, and then raised its palm to his masked face.

'You didn't seriously wait out here all this time, did you?' Despair asked as he got to her.

She smiled. 'You _did_ say that I'd barely notice you aren't here.' Despair sighed.

'Come on, let's-' He went to go get in the boat when Serana stopped him.

'Hold on, where's your nice outfit?' She asked. Despair blinked. 'For the Masquerade Ball.'

'Oh.' He patted one of the infinite pockets under the Arch-mage robes. 'I have it. I assume yours is in the Castle already.'

'Yeah, but I haven't ever actually worn it.' She slipped into the front of the boat, taking the oars. '…I hope it fits.' She added quietly as Despair got in after her.

Behind Morokei, Despair's eye twitched as he was suddenly treated to several mental images of the attractive vampire opposite him in a too-tight evening dress. She was stunning enough in the dark robes that was reserved for vampire royalty, and the not so subtle hole in the chest that showed off her cleavage – he could barely fathom how beautiful she would appear when she was actually trying to look nice. Blood rushed in unequal distribution throughout his anatomy as his mind continued to conjure thoughts regarding the girl he had already been having conflicting emotions over.

He looked up – trying to silence the rampant ideas in his head by reminding herself of her actual appearance, not some lurid fantasy that continued to exist without his consent. Instead it had the opposite effect, and Despair became painfully aware of how isolated they were on the small craft in the middle of the sea between Skyrim and Castle Volkihar, how alone they were – together. Everything about her enthralled him; the almost snow-white colour of her skin, the glow in her eyes, the sculpted line of her jaw and the way her lips lay perfectly on her face – so inviting.

They'd been together since they'd met, and not a day had gone by when Despair hadn't thoroughly enjoyed it. She'd cared for him and in return he had done so for her. The question really was _why_. Aside from her debt – which he'd waved – there was no reason for her to be as affectionate as she was being. Unless...she actually possessed feelings for him.

_Ludicrous._ He thought cynically, though that didn't ease the discomfort he was feeling from the various factors plaguing him. He_ still _hadn't gotten the suggestive images out of his head.

Despair almost jumped in joy when the looming structure of the castle became visible.

Quickly they had walked up the bridge, Despair leading. As they reached the gates she stopped him, wanting to say something.

'Look, I'm only here because you asked me to be. So make this worth it, alright?' She smirked.

'As you wish, my Lady.' He bowed in half-sarcasm.

They entered, trying their best not to be noticed as they entered the main hall so that they could go to wherever Serana's outfit was and change. It didn't work, and several court members swarmed in on them at once – eventually leaving them be until only one remained.

_Why is it always _you_?_ Despair asked himself as he regarded the leering face of Garan Marethi.

'You came! I was so anxious you wouldn't make it – we are so honoured to have members of your caliber among us tonight.' It sounded practiced, but Despair couldn't help be flattered by Garan's words. 'I assume you already know who your partner is going to be?' He looked eagerly at Serana, who immediately clung to Despair's arm.

'Yes, we do.' She said.

'Splendid. It would be such a shame if you befell the same curse of solitude as Lord Harkon did when Lady Valerica left him, Lady Serana.' He observed the both of them before continuing. 'We hope you enjoy yourselves. Lady Serana.' He bowed. He turned to Despair and suddenly his smile faltered, but swiftly returned. He had just realized the nature of the situation from Serana choosing Despair.

'…Lord Despair.' He said with reluctance. He immediately turned away and left the pair, the male trying to understand what had just happened.

'Did he just call me lord? I've never been called a lord before.'

'Don't get used to it. Come on, I'll take you to my chambers.' She pulled on his arm and led him out of the room.

After turning through several dark corridors and climbing one very tall spiral tower they made it to Serana's room. She remarked that she hadn't actually been there since she was sealed in Dimhollow, so she had no idea what state it was in. She was shocked though as she opened the room and found it in perfect condition – Harkon must have ordered to keep it maintained after all this time.

'Wow, this is nice.' Despair quietly commented as they entered, admiring the spaciousness.

The room was predominantly laid in a red and black colour scheme, with red banners hanging from the black stone. At the back of the room was a large bed – oddly instead of a coffin – with a detailed mantle carved in gold. Several elaborate chests and wardrobes dotted around the edge of the room, carved in an elegant and horrifying way – fitting of a vampire. It was separated into two levels by a short set of stairs in the middle, the bed and largest wardrobe on the higher platform.

'It's like…I never left…' Serana said slowly in awe.

Despair silently observed the area, it was extremely nice. After a while he turned to Serana and said; 'I'm going to get dressed now. Do you want me to wait for you or would you prefer go down together?' He asked.

'I'll…you go on ahead…I think I'll spend a bit of time up here…' She trailed off, slowly walking into the room and letting herself be enrapt in it. As per the answer, Despair left and descended the staircase, looking around the rest of the castle for a private room to change. Eventually he found one, and not long after he found himself waiting in the transformed main hall, watching the party grow around him.

The tables had been pushed back against the wall to allow space. There was an assortment of meats and corpses lying on them, free for any vampire to feed on. Around the room were several thralls holding plates of empty goblets and a knife at their waist – no doubt to serve as the taps to the vampires. The hall had been redecorated almost from scratch, several more light sources dotting the walls and a huge crimson carpet lay over the floor, giving guests something soft to walk on.

Despair was wearing his recently made formal attire. All the vampires had similar suits that looked like more elegant versions of their typical dress – with higher collars, a third tail and a short cape that resembled bat-like wings. The Dragonborn was much more distinctive.

He possessed a high collar like the others, but his wasn't quiet as tall or prominent as the other children of the nights'. He wore what resembled a Thalmor trench coat in a deep black with the buttons on the top done up. There was a thick fur lining around the shoulders and a bone-white neckpiece. He wore the clawed gloves of standard vampire gear, and the boots – though a slightly more pointed version than the round toes of the standard. His sleeves ended in point around the outside and where the fur on his shoulders ended sprouted a full length, twin-tailed cape. The other attendants assumed that they were representing bat wings like theirs – longer due to his bloodline – but Despair had designed them to be the wings of a dragon, not that anyone else had to know.

As per Serana's instructions he was not wearing Morokei as his mask, rather one of his own make. It was crafted from a large human skull he had found, the white bone matching well with his pale skin. The jaw and face of the skull were joined on each side by three stitches – but the jawbone itself was fixed to Despair's own, so that when he spoke it would move eerily with it, but it was low enough to let his mouth be visible. The face of the skull covered his well – so that his true face was still unknown to all in Harkon's court outside of Serana. His eyes watched sharply from behind the empty sockets.

'It's such a shame Lord Harkon won't be in attendance.' A voice suddenly said from behind Despair. 'But I hope that our Lord Despair will be a fair substitute, if another can even compare to our true lord.'

Despair turned around – his coat tails spinning with him – only to see Garan Marethi, watching him from behind a black, Ebony mask with no features aside from leaf-shaped eyeholes. 'Of course, we are still honoured by your presence.'

'I have to say, this is a better evening than I had imagined.' Despair grinned, ignoring Garan's words. 'Serana mentioned something about this being a pair event though.'

'_Lady_ Serana.' Garan corrected him, though he suspected that Despair enjoyed making him do it. 'Yes, the central event of the evening is – as the name suggests – a ball. Harkon himself hasn't participated in centuries; this will be the first time a pureblood vampire is in attendance in more than an era.' He sounded a little too excited for Despair's liking.

The Dragonborn leaned against one of the tables – careful not to let any blood get on his clothes – and waved his hand, calling a thrall over. 'And you Garan, have you danced this night in the past?'

'I must, as Harkon's second-in-command. Usually I join with Fura Bloodmouth for the evening, she is quite…tender.' He paused as he found the right word. Despair shivered at the implications of that, trying to change the subject.

'…Funnily enough, Vingalmo and Orthjolf seem to fight over her too, though neither of them-' He continued before he was cut off.

'Garan. Harkon's wife; Valerica – did she ever participate?'

'Of course she did. She was usually the centre of attention, always watched from the shadows by a young Lady Serana. They were quiet close to be honest.'

'I've heard, what was Harkon's relationship with her?' Despair asked, his tone turning interrogatory – if Garan noticed he hadn't let on. Both vampires took a goblet from the thrall Despair had called over and filled them with his blood, leaving with an open wrist.

'Lord Harkon and Lady Valerica were very much in love, quite a picturesque family with Lady Serana. After some time though, they became distant. Lord Harkon became more obsessed with the prophecy – all for the benefit of our kind – and Lady Valerica became distant. Eventually she and Lady Serana left, and I haven't seen Lady Valerica since.'

'Any idea where she went?' Despair took a small sip from his goblet as he asked. He noticed Garan's empty cup and how the man was swaying slightly. If blood was a vampires' alcohol, Garan really couldn't hold his liquor.

'…No, neither Lady Serana – I only saw her when you returned her to us…She used to have a splendid garden, and an Alchemists laboratory – though it was blocked off a long time ago by debris.' Garan turned to Despair – about to ask the latter for another drink when suddenly his eyes widened and his glass clattered to the floor. 'By Lord Molag Bal!'

Despair turned to see what the other vampire was referring to, realizing that every other in the room was doing the same. His goblet swiftly joined Garan's on the floor and his mouth hung slightly agape – exposing his sharp teeth. For a moment Despair wondered whether Harkon had completed the prophecy and created an eternal night, because the sun was suddenly eclipsed by something even more beautiful.

The pale-skinned Princess of Volkihar stood atop the balcony above her father's throne. She was wearing a black dress that fell just short of the floor – trailing a little behind her – that was open at the front, showing tight black leggings that accentuated her shapely figure. Her lips had taken on a deep, blood-red rouge colour that contrasted wonderfully with her porcelain features. The shoulders were spiked and the top half of her arms bare, the forearms and hands encased in black leather gloves. The torso of her dress looked similar to the standard gear of female vampires, the body lining her slender frame – with cupped breasts half exposed, proving what Despair had initially thought as modest to be more…

Despair had been right; it was a little _too _tight.

Her mask was more like a crown; black and gold. It rose up in five short horns at the front and circled around. Her hair was in the same style, framing around her face. Under the five horns on the crown came a black mask, similar to Garan's in style but only descending halfway down the face so that her jaw and mouth were visible.

The Dragonborn was stunned, in sheer awe. Surely the moon must have be hiding away behind the clouds tonight, for it would be embarrassed at its ugliness against this beautiful creature.

Suddenly Despair realized that _everyone_ was staring at her. He quickly climbed the stairs and rose to join her, saving her from scrutiny. As he came beside her he slipped a hand into hers, entwining their fingers. The court remained silent, until the intoxicated Garan suddenly shouted out;

'Ladies and gentlemen of the court; Lady Serana and Lord Despair!' He called.

The court slowly built into a thunderous applause, seeing the first two pureblood vampires in centuries at the annual Masquerade Ball. Eventually it died down, and everyone went back to socializing with each other. Despair turned to Serana and pulled her back from the balcony, bringing her away from the eyes of the others.

'You look…beautiful…' He breathed, his eyes drinking her in.

'Thank you.' She smiled nervously. 'I didn't know how everyone would react. I hope I wasn't too…' She trailed off, unable to think of a word.

'Magnificent?' He suggested.

'That works.' She smiled. He took her other hand in his and held them up at chest height. 'Don't worry, I won't let anyone else touch you – though it might be a bit of a problem keeping them away.'

'I'm sure that won't be any trouble for you.'

'I hope not. I was talking to Garan before you…' He wanted to say arrived, but "completely stopped his heart" seemed more appropriate. 'Well, we talked about your parents and he told me that they used to be close.'

'They did.' She said solemnly. 'But I don't want to dwell on the past tonight. Not right now.' She looked up at his face. 'I like your mask, very…_Despair_-ish.'

'Thanks, I can't say the same about yours. I have a vendetta against anything that hides your face though.'

She chuckled, though inside she went berserk. _Was that comment a friendly one!? Or does it mean something more!?_ She didn't have time to think though, as Despair suddenly whisked her away with him and down to the main hall.

Entering the lower level the pair received several smiles and greetings from other members of the court. Garan was on what looked like his fourth or fifth glass, and Fura Bloodmouth was standing beside him, holding him up. As they traversed the floor to get some drinks from a thrall, several male vampires were looking at Serana like she was an especially tasty meal – not in the conventional way for vampires'. Despair pulled her close to him, though he also got a couple of hungry glances from some of the females in attendance.

'Thrall.' Despair ordered. The slave gave Serana and Despair a goblet each and filled them with his own blood – he was paling though, as if he had been serving most of the party on his own – or Garan.

Despair shot back a swig of the crimson fluid, downing half the glass. He looked over at Serana, who was drinking it more slowly. His eyes lingered on the way her porcelain neck undulated as she drank, mesmerized. As she finished and looked into his eyes, a smile forced itself to Despair's face and then one to Serana's.

Suddenly a slow, mournful tune filled the hall. Despair and Serana looked over to see a large group of vampires playing several instruments – looking like they were made from human parts. Around them the hall began to assemble in pairs, and they realized that now was the main event.

Slowly they walked together to the middle of the room, taking the centre for themselves. Serana looked nervously at Despair, who smiled back – equally anxious. Tentatively he took her left hand in his right and snaked his other around her waist – she bringing hers up around his shoulder.

'I've never actually danced like this before.' She quietly admitted.

'Don't worry; there isn't much opportunity for a dragon to be indulgent like this. We're as bad as each other.' Despair whispered back.

'Yet to these people we may as well be gods.'

'And you denied that this would be fun.' Despair said.

Serana looked down, then back up into his eyes. 'I find most things involving you to be fun.' She admitted.

'Oh? I'm flattered. But do you think that's because no one else in your life is, or because I actually am?' He asked.

'A bit of both, more the latter I think.'

Despair failed to resist smiling. They were slowly turning on the spot – and Despair managed to catch the hilarious sight of Garan Marethi leaning drunkenly into Fura Bloodmouth's shoulder, drooling into her cleavage. He turned back to Serana.

'Serana. What do you think will happen when we find the third Elder Scroll, and Auriel's Bow?'

'I…don't know. My father will want to use it I assume.'

Despair frowned, that was what he had been afraid of. 'Serana, vampires are creatures that survive by hiding in shadows. What do you think would happen if everywhere was draped in shadows?'

'We…we would have nowhere to hide.' She slowly said.

'That's right. This may be paranoia…but I think that every creature would be driven to destroy us outright if we turned off the sun. With nowhere to hide, we wouldn't survive long.'

'But…are you saying we should stop my father?' Serana asked.

'Yes, probably. Harkon might be driving us to extinction instead of salvation.'

'Then why not just discontinue our search?'

'Harkon is resourceful. Not to mention that he's immortal, he has nothing but time. I don't think we can just leave this be – especially as there are Elder Scroll's involved.'

'So then we have to stop my father.' Serana concluded.

Despair sighed. 'You know him better than I. Do you think he could be reasoned with?'

Serana suddenly went quiet, thinking. 'I…I don't know…After he found out about that prophecy he completely ignored mother and I, becoming obsessed. We stopped being a real family soon after he started pursuing it.' She said, downcast.

Despair furrowed his brow. 'It may be a long shot, and I'm sorry if I offend you…but we may have to kill him.'

Serana suddenly looked aghast at Despair, and then as she realized the situation around them she stopped. Her mind became more understanding of Despair's suggestion, and the reasoning behind it. 'But…' She started.

'No, I'm sorry Serana, I shouldn't have said that – you shouldn't have to decide something like that.' He shook his head, closing his eyes in shame.

'No…it's just…' She squeezed his hand, beckoning him to stop and look at her. 'I think I could do it…if you're assumption is correct…' She looked deep into his eyes and immediately regretted the next thing she said.

'As long as you're with me Despair, I could go on living.'

Immediately they both stopped. The dancers around them kept on going, but they stared at each other. Serana's snow-white pallour turned a light pink all over, and Despair had to consciously make sure his ears were working properly.

_Was that…a confession? Did she just confess…to me?_ He thought, staring into her eyes.

Serana immediately tried to diffuse the situation, spinning them back into the dance – but just as she did, the song ended and all the vampires around them began to break off from their pairings. She could stick around here, not with all the others around them. Regardless of whether she was going to continue what had started, or if she was going to do something else she couldn't do it here – they had to be alone.

She suddenly pulled him with her and they ascended up the staircase to the higher platform of the main hall. Stopping, she turned to him and spoke; 'Despair, I want to show you something.' She had to distract him, stop him from thinking about what she had just said. It wasn't that she hadn't meant it, but she hadn't meant for him to know _now_.

She led him to the corridor that led to her mother's garden, hoping that would work as a good deterrent. She stopped and panicked when she saw the passage covered up with fallen debris, unable to pass.

'Garan mentioned this to me.' Despair said from behind, still clutching her hand.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ She thought. She could take the side entrance, the one outside Volkihar – no, that was ridiculous. So busy in thinking, that she failed to notice that Despair had walked right up to a crack in the debris – large enough for a small child.

He slowly reached his hand into it, when suddenly he disappeared in a swarm of black bats and shot through the hole, leaving her alone.

'Despair…?'

He reappeared, grinning and looking at his hands. 'Hah. Looks like I can still use Blood Magic.' He looked up at Serana before taking her hand and shifting back into the swarm of bats, taking her with him through the hole and leaving the party behind.

Serana gasped and suddenly found herself in a large courtyard – the form of Despair recreating itself next to her from his cloud of bats. As she looked, she slowly realized that it was her mother's garden, eyes opening wide.

'This…'

'So this is your mother's garden.' Despair said nonchalantly. 'I have to say – it must have been pretty impressive when it was being tended to.'

'…You have no idea. This used to be so beautiful…' Serana whispered.

'Coming from you? Wow.' Despair said, Serana blushed.

'We used to spend so many hours here, tending the plants…' She trailed off.

She was lost in looking at it, completely engrossed when Despair started walking, observing the large sundial in the middle. He walked around it, looking at the various moondials around it before making a frowning face.

'This is missing a couple of slots.' He said aloud. Turning his head Despair looked around the garden, wondering if they were still there. A few minutes later, he was carrying three large mirrors of different shape – and slotting them into the empty sockets. Suddenly the dial shifted, making a grinding noise before lowering and creating a stairwell leading down. Serana walked up to it and peered down, wonderment in her eyes.

'By the Daedra…' She whispered. 'My mother never told me about this…'

Despair looked down, and then glanced over to Serana – he hadn't forgotten what she had said just a little while ago. He frowned, unsure of whether he should press for an answer or let it slide and hope for it to resurface again.

_If that was a true confession…she'll bring it up again._ He concluded, walking to her side and taking her hand. His confident persona continued its dance throughout the journey, smiling up at her.

'Ladies first then?' He asked, indicating the stairwell.


	7. Hidden Under the King's Bed

Hi, hi. This is a looooooooooooooooooooooooooong chapter, just a heads up. As ever thanks for the support and leave a review.

I do not own the Elder Scrolls series nor anything affiliated with it, only my own ideas.

* * *

The pair descended the hidden staircase rapidly, still garbed in their party gear. It was somewhat fortunate for Despair that Serana was leading in the front, otherwise he wouldn't be able to focus on anything other than her…assets.

'I assume you've never been here before?' Despair asked.

'No…my mother never told me about this.' Serana replied.

'Why do you think she's hidden it from you?'

'I don't know, maybe she was afraid of my father finding it…or maybe she was hiding something big.'

Despair mumbled in acknowledgement. They reached a door at the bottom and walked through it, coming into a large room with a table at the centre. Several chairs were wrecked and those that weren't were host to empty skeletal figures. Broken walls and debris littered the space, forcing Despair and Serana to walk around and shimmy near the table.

Suddenly the empty braziers flickered to life, filling the room with an unearthly glow. The vampires reeled back in shock, and the sound of bones began to reach their ears.

'What is that…?' Serana asked apprehensively.

Several of the skeletal corpses that were sitting down, suddenly stirring and rising. They all wore Ancient Nordic Armour, making Despair think of skinless Draugr – and wielded weapons from the same era.

'Despair!' Serana raised an arm to cover him, even though neither was wearing any kind of armour she still stood to protect him. He quickly reached back and pulled a torch off the wall, holding it up as a weapon in his left hand. 'Stand behind me, without your magic you can't do anything!' She called.

'Heh. I'm insulted, Serana.' Despair grabbed a loose Ancient Nordic Sword and equipped it to his right. 'Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.'

Serana frowned but looked steadfastly at the oncoming horde of undead. She threw several blasts of Ice Spike, slowing them down, before drawing her dagger and charging in.

_Where did she keep that?_ Despair asked himself as he watched Serana draw her weapon; last he'd checked there wasn't anywhere to hide anything in that outfit. Before he could consider pondering the physics of her revealing dress however, three skeletons had descended upon him.

The first charged in and Despair leaned to the side to avoid its heavy battleaxe. Letting it stagger forward with the momentum, Despair struck it in the back with a spinning kick and knocked it into the wall behind. Before he could see the fate of the first, a second skeleton charged in and swung its weapon from behind. Despair lifted the torch behind his head, blocking the blade. He swung around and slashed at the bare spine – slicing the skeleton in two. As it fell on the ground – the top half crawling to attack The Dragonborn – Despair crunched his boot into its skull, grinding it into dust.

A hollow cry called Despair to look to his right, where the third skeleton had its hands raised. The skeleton blasted a stream of Frostbite at the vampire, only for him to laugh and shrug it off. Cold was no longer an issue to a child of the night, and he barely felt it as he walked over – spinning his sword-wrist menacingly.

With the torch in his left he batted at the skeleton mage's right hand, stopping the flow of ice Destruction magic. Using the momentum he brought his sword around and sliced the bone-man's arm off at the elbow. The creature screeched an empty yell, Despair took the opportunity to jam his torch into the skeleton's mouth and decapitate it, its bones falling loosely to the ground.

'_Dovahkiin! Behind you!'_ The inner voice of Alduin warned.

Despair spun on his heel, coming face-to-face with the first skeleton – wielding its battleaxe. It swung the Two-Handed weapon horizontally, Despair jumping back to dodge it. When the battleaxe had swung too far The Dragonborn rushed in, bludgeoning the undead with his torch and sword in tandem. Quickly the creature fell and Despair frowned at the pile of bones it created.

'Having fun?'

Despair looked up to see Serana, who was smiling mockingly at him, surrounded by far more bones than he had killed. He frowned; 'I'm a mage. Not having the ability to use magic for me is the equivalent to you not being able to use your legs.'

She giggled. 'Come on, I think we're going to find something good at the end of this.'

They walked deeper into the ruins, Despair keeping his torch and sword. Several more skeletons rose along their path, and all of them fell into lifeless piles of bones at the hands of the vampiric duo.

Eventually Despair found himself frowning at a large doorway. Their path was blocked by a metal grate, but that wasn't what was making him feel uneasy. To his right was a chain to pull – but in front of it was the hunching form of a Gargoyle, snarling out of the stone.

'Serana…' He turned to the night's most beautiful creature. '…Those Gargoyles we fought at Dimhollow Crypt…they weren't the only ones, were they?'

She shook her head. 'This old castle was filled with them. I don't know how many survived the gradual decline, but they shouldn't react to us – we're vampires.' She stated.

'Perhaps, but those skeletons should have acted the same way.' Despair looked away from his companion – struggling somewhat due to the attractiveness that her Masquerade Ball attire emphasized, but stared down the still stone statue. He began to march over to the hulking figure, stopping when he was right in front of it. 'This thing is going to come to life the moment I touch the pulley behind it. Serana, cover me.'

The she-vampire nodded and readied her Destruction magic, holding up her hands. Despair reached out and pulled the chain, leaping back as the stone in front of him suddenly exploded, sending chips of debris everywhere. Despair jumped away, vaulting on his hands as he flipped away. As he looked up the Gargoyle roared to life, its eyes focusing on him.

'Come, beast.' Despair grinned. He pulled his torch and sword combo out, brandishing them. The Gargoyle advanced, halted by the fire of Ice Spike's into its head. Despair twirled the hilt of the sword between his fingers arrogantly, when suddenly the stone monster became unflinching and charged forth – its heavy wings assisting it.

_Shit!_ Despair raised his sword just in time to block the teeth of the Gargoyle. He grunted the creature bore down on him, pushing his feet into the ground. Twisting the blade in his hand, he drove the edge into the Gargoyle's throat, carving into it.

'Now, Serana!' Despair called as he jumped back, his attack making the stone beast recoil in pain. The exposed neck suddenly became host to several shards of ice, embedded in the rock. Despair lunged forward, driving his sword down to the hilt and paralyzing the bigger beast. He lifted his left hand up and jammed the torch down the Gargoyle's throat, fire seeping out of the cracks from the sword.

'That should do it.' Despair grunted as he pulled his weapon from the stone corpses husk and freed the torch of its maw. He regarded the creature as it fell. 'Imagine if Harkon had mass-produced these things, he could take over Skyrim without this prophecy.'

Serana shivered. 'Yeah but I don't even know where these things come from, or how they're made.'

'You mentioned your mother dabbled in Necromancy?' He said as they ascended the stairs that were behind the grate.

'To call it "dabbling" is insulting. My mother was a genius; if I ever became as intelligent as her I'd consider it a divine gift.' Serana said.

'You're clever in your own ways.' Despair comforted.

'Hardly. My mother had a theory about Soul Gems you know?'

'Soul Gems?' Despair's interested peaked. 'What about them?'

'Well,' She began to explain as she turned a waking skeleton into an ice pincushion. 'When Black Souls were used in enchantments, she didn't think they just died – but went somewhere.'

'Oh, where?' He casually asked as he decapitated a skeleton and bashed in another with his torch.

'I think she called it; "The Soul Cairn."' She said. 'Black Souls would go there and reside until the end of time. It's like a plane of Oblivion.'

'Until the end of time?' Despair chuckled. 'Then I have some apologizing to do when we get there.'

Serana looked funnily at him. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm Skyrim's most accomplished Enchanter, there are probably hundreds of souls in the Soul Cairn because of me.'

With that, the duo stopped their conversation and went back to charging through the ruins, destroying skeletons and the occasional giant spider. Eventually they entered a room, filled with the unmoving stone statues of Gargoyles. Both of them hesitated at the doorway, unenthusiastic about having to fight several of the rocky golems all at once.

'Come on, let's sneak past them.' Despair suggested, crouching on his haunches. Silently they crept through the room, slipping past each snarling face until they managed to get to the end of the room. Despair grinned as he put his hand on the door, when suddenly one of the beasts exploded to life in a blast of stone chips and a roar.

'Daedra!' Despair cursed. Instinctively he spun and threw his sword out of his hand, letting it fly and impaling the stone beast in the gullet. The creature froze for a few seconds, before falling - dead. Serana gasped at the accuracy of his shot, Despair standing up to his full height and facing the room coming to life. 'We have company.' He darkly uttered as the Gargoyles began to burst into animation.

In an instant Serana had blasted one of the now-living statues with her ice, rushing up to it slicing its throat open with her dagger in succession. The turned to the see the remaining three advancing on Despair, enclosing him into a wall. 'Despair!' She called, preparing to hail the stony creatures with ice.

'Don't worry.' Despair dropped the torch and flexed his fingers, his knuckles clicking audibly. 'I can handle this.' He drew in a breath, letting the three Gargoyles get close to him. One of them raised a claw and prepared to strike, when suddenly The Dragonborn shouted.

'**Wuld! Nah! Kest!'** The force of the Thu'um forced Serana to block her eyes. When she opened them only two of the Gargoyles still remained, discovering that the third one had been pounded into dust into the opposite wall by Despair.

_How did he…?_ She asked herself, confused at how her savior had so suddenly gone from one end of the room to the other. He was panting heavily, and shaking his hand out like it was in pain. Drawing in a deep breath, The Dragonborn exhaled methodically before repeating the same Dragon Shout.

'**Wuld! Nah! Kest!'** He roared, sprinting forth as fast as the sound from his lips. With the force of the speed rush assisting him he crunched his knee into the second Gargoyles head, killing the creature.

Despair brought his forearm in a wide arc around to hit the third Gargoyle, only for it to be blocked by its heavy wing, used as a limb. The beast roared into Despair's face, showing off its teeth in a fearsome display. The Dragonborn panted heavily, out of breath from performing _two _Dragon Shouts so quickly after each other. He clenched his teeth – the stone monster was proving stronger than he, forcing him back. Suddenly his body shattered apart into a cloud of bats and flew behind the Gargoyle, the vampire reappearing.

'**Yol! Tuur! Shul!'** He breathed a stream of dragonfire onto the Gargoyles head from behind, crippling the beast. It buckled and fell to its knees, the very stone melting on its scalp and neck. Despair began to stagger, slightly dizzy and Serana killed the half-dead Gargoyle with ice, rushing over to hold Despair up.

'I'm alright…just need to…' He forced a grin with his pun. '…catch my breath…' He huffed.

'What in Oblivion was that?' She asked.

'Heh, I'm surprised that a _Nord _of all people failed to recognize the Thu'um, though in fairness you weren't around for the creation of the Empire, and thus missed Talos – the Thu'um's most famed wielder.' Despair panted. 'Usually I don't use it as rapidly as that though…'

'So what, you're speaking the language of dragons?' Serana asked.

'It's almost like my mother tongue.' Despair steadily rose to his full height again. 'Hopefully that's the last of them. Using Blood Magic like that is…strange. I'm not used to it.'

Serana frowned. 'It's rare that someone can perform it outside of the Vampire Lord form, it's no wonder you're having trouble.'

Despair gave a breath of acknowledgement then took Serana's hand in his, causing the older vampire to blush. 'Come on, we've got to be near the end.' Together they continued through the halls, eventually entering what looked like someone's living space.

'This is a dead end.' Despair summarized, looking around the room. There were some Royal Vampire Robes on a shelf next to a coffin, several articles of furniture and a dimly glowing fireplace. He kicked some of the loose objects on the ground as he passed them, looking further around the room.

'I don't think so, if there's something I've learned from this old castle it's that there's always something hidden.' Serana frowned as Despair's hand slipped out of hers. She watched as The Dragonborn carefully looked around the room, his hand sliding over the wall in case he found a hidden panel or switch.

'Don't forget you haven't been around for the past…' He did the math in his head. '…at least 600 years, things can change.'

'Hah, vampires don't change as fast as mortals. When you're immortal evolution becomes very arbitrary. We don't spend as long or are as quick to change things.' She laughed. 'You remember the court? There's only one or two I don't recognize, and none are missing. That's how interested my father is in change.'

'Hm.' Despair mumbled, uninterested in contesting with Serana. His eyes slowly drifted back to her, drinking in her pale skin and the way her outfit fitted her. The way her legs were encased by the fabric that held them, or the manner in which her torso shaped her breasts and presented them. There was far more than lust in his affection for her, but he could certainly feel the effects of that aspect taking hold.

'Serana…' He began to say, leaning on a candlebra above the fireplace. 'About earlier-' He suddenly stopped when the object he was resting on flipped, causing him to stagger in surprise. When he regained his balance Serana was standing next to him, looking up at the fireplace.

Despair joined her gaze and saw that the wall had fallen back and shifted, revealing an upwards spiral stairway. He blinked, trying to get a hold of the situation in his mind – before the sudden sight of Serana's rear took over his thought drive as she walked forward.

'See, I told you that there was something hidden.' She said smugly, turning in her minor victory. Luckily Despair recomposed himself in time and joined her, leading the duo up the stairs to wherever it led.

Eventually they came to a door – the same as almost every other door in the castle – but something seemed different. Despair pushed it open slowly, suspicion filling his mind. His thoughts turned to surprised when he entered the room, realizing what is was.

'Is this…an Alchemy laboratory? It's huge…' He whispered. Behind him, Serana suddenly bounded into the room excitedly.

'This is my mother's lab!' She exclaimed. 'Mother? Mother, are you in here?' She called out, her voice echoing back to her. She became slightly downcast when there was no reply and turned to Despair, who was observing a strange rune on the floor.

At the centre of the room was a large circular pattern cut into the stone. Despair eyed it warily then looked up at Serana. 'You said that your mother had a theory about a "Soul Cairn? What if she actually found it?'

Serana blinked. Despair continued; 'Harkon hasn't found her yet – but it's been more than an era since you were entombed in Dimhollow. Where could she have been hiding?' Despair asked, suggesting the answer with his actions. 'Even for a well-funded expert at subterfuge, they will eventually be caught – trust me, I know.' He said, remembering back to his time with Mercer and Karliah. 'Harkon would have found her by now if she was out in the wilderness, so I think…' He trailed off.

'…She's in the Soul Cairn.' Serana finished.

'Right. Here in the castle.' Despair turned, looking at the shelves of books in the corner. 'If we're lucky, she left behind a way to join her.' He began to walk over but stopped when Serana took his hand.

'Despair! We don't even know if the Soul Cairn exists! We're only here at all because I-' She suddenly stopped. She couldn't admit that she had been trying to distract him in leading him to the garden, which would be admitting her feelings for him, _again_. And if he didn't return them…

He looked blankly at her from behind his skull mask. 'Serana. This involves the Elder Scroll's. I'm fairly certain the Soul Cairn is within the bounds of reality in relative terms.' Despair pulled her with him. 'Now, did your mother have a journal or something we can look for?'

'Yeah but-' She didn't get to finish as Despair suddenly leaned forward, flicking through the various tomes. Some were too worn to even read the cover of, but a few were still intact. The Dragonborn had to stifle a giggle when he saw the spine of "The Lusty Argonian Maid V2".

'Here, is this it?' He said quickly, drawing a thin book from the shelves and showing Serana. The vampires both peered into it as Despair flicked through the pages, several Alchemic recipes being detailed in excess within the paper confines. They continued to look through together – unaware of their closeness – until Despair suddenly stopped and pressed a finger into the page.

'Here.'

A list of ingredients was written onto the page. At the top of the list was scribbled; "Soul Cairn".

'Perfect. Now we just need to find them.' Despair turned and sauntered into the centre of the room, leaving Serana at the bookshelves. She watched silently as he rushed around, looking for the various ingredients for the recipe. Her mind was a little confused, anxiety filling her up as she struggled to understand his actions. She assumed that he would have at least _asked _what she meant when they were dancing.

She had to admit, his attire fitted his form well in her eyes. All through their time at the ball almost all the other male vampires had stared obsessively at her – while in comparison Despair had barely gazed at it.

_What if…he doesn't care about me?_

_Don't be ridiculous. After all we've been through he has to feel something for me!_ Hope protested within her. _What if he's in the same boat and thinks I don't care about him while he does for me!?_

_I'm a grown girl, fairy tales like that don't happen in reality!_ Cynicism countered.

Serana bit her lip, drawing blood, in an effort to escape her mind. It wasn't working as well as she had hoped; luckily she was helped as Despair called her over.

'Serana, up here! I've found the ingredients!' He called from the higher platform at the centre of the room. As she came up to join him, his mind drifted to locations unknown – a place where his companion ruled over.

_Dare I ask what she meant?_ He thought, remembering her words at the dance. _Or is there truly something between us…_

He didn't get to continue pondering as she reached him, his mind forcing him back into reality. 'The recipe says we'll need blood…' He started. '…As this is _your_ mother I assume it'll mean your blood.' He said nervously.

'Don't worry. I don't mind.' Serana sighed. She was still skeptical about the whole thing – but largely it was better than going back to the party. And besides, she got to spend time alone with Despair. She carefully leaned over and held her bleeding lip over the bowl containing the ingredients and let a single drop of blood fall.

Despair's unliving heart raced as she held her lips out. So soft, so tender, so inviting to the love-starved Dragonborn – who was certain that his emotion was unrequited. He was about to do something very stupid, something he wouldn't have done within his sanity – as he leaned in towards her, letting the space between his lips part – when suddenly the circular carving below them erupted.

Both reeled back as an ethereal purple energy began to swirl around the room, the stones shifting and rising. Despair watched with an intense interest as the black arcs rose and fell, turning into a stairway from their platform. At the bottom was an endless whirlpool of power, humming with the same aura as any Soul Gem he had ever held.

'By the Daedra…' He whispered, slowly walking down the newly created stairway. Serana simply stared from behind him, in awe of the spectacle.

'The Soul Cairn…' She could barely believe it. 'Mother…you were right…'

Despair let his hand drift in the rift, the essence gliding over his palm and fingers. In the midst of the whirlpool he could see the tormented faces of screaming men and Mer swin past. His eyes swam with a sense of wonderment, before being brought back to reality by a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to see Serana looking into his eyes from behind her Ebony mask. Her orange iris' held his complete and utter attention for a moment, until her words reached his ears.

'Despair.' She called to him. 'You think we'll find my mother in there?'

The Dragonborn recomposed himself, answering. 'Yeah, if she's anywhere it'll be in there.' He said in half-confidence. 'What better way to hide than in a place your hunter doesn't know exists?'

Serana looked steely at him. 'Despair, I haven't seen my mother in a long time. I…don't know if I can go through with this.'

He raised a hand to her cheek. 'You don't have to come in, but I have to go in to get that Elder Scroll, you know that.'

She blinked. 'Then I'm coming with you. Where you go, I will go.'

Despair smiled in the face of her resolve. 'I wouldn't want to go anywhere without my beloved companion either.' His voice trickled at sarcasm, but hinted truth under a veil. Serana punched his arm lightly and smiled back, turning to the bright void of the Soul Cairn.

Before they both stepped into it, Despair slid his hand into Serana's, and the duo entered together.

_**The Soul Cairn.**_

The first steps into the realm of trapped souls were shaky. Despair and Serana immediately found themselves staggering as they realized that they were standing on a floating staircase of arc-shaped stones. They quickly discovered that it was perfectly still and there was no need to correct their own balance – but not before falling over into each other's arms.

However, rather than the warm, platonic feel of past experiences like this – they both felt embarrassed and vulnerable. With the elegance of a pair of spiders, the pair detached – though kept their hands intertwined.

'Wow, this is…beautiful.' Serana said, admiring the vast, ethereal presence of the Soul Cairn. Beside her Despair nodded in agreement, but something made him nervous.

'What's wrong?' Serana asked.

Sheepishly, Despair replied. 'As I said, a fair amount of these souls are probably here because of me. I do hope we don't meet too many of them.'

Serana chuckled good-naturedly and the pair descended the floating staircase. As their feet hit the ground they both took not of the desert-like atmosphere the Soul Cairn held, an empty, desolate grandness that was beyond either of their comprehension. They passed several mournful-looking figures, their bodies like husks of their former selves. Serana could almost feel the guilt from Despair through their hands, though it could also be that he was holding her tighter than normal.

A familiar clicking noise suddenly broke the windward silence, the vampires taking a defensive stance as several black skulls broke the surface of the ground, followed by the bodies.

'Come, stand behind me.' Despair came in front of Serana. 'Cover me.' He raised his fists.

The first of four black skeletons raised his blade at Despair, The Dragonborn easily sidestepping and delivering a punch to the Boneman. The undead staggered, letting Despair get in a sharp kick to the ribcage and scattering the bones apart – killing it. His reflexes suddenly twitched and he leaned back, avoiding several shards of ice that were not aimed for him. All of the magical missiles embedded into the second Boneman, but Despair deadpanned at Serana; as if to say, _be more careful_.

Only two of the undead remained, both of them armed with bows. The first of them fired an arrow at Despair, the vampire effortlessly dodging it. Then he suddenly remembered that Serana was behind him – and that she may get hit. Luckily that one missed her, but as the second archer pulled at its bowstring, anxiety seeped into Despair.

'**Tiid! Klo! Ul!'**

Time slowed to his will and the arrow moved at the pace of a Horker. Unflinching, The Dragonborn reached out and grabbed the arrow out of the air, breaking it like a twig. With time still in slow-motion he rushed forth and disarmed one of the bowmen, smashing the fragile creature into little bits with its own bow. As time restarted at its normal pace the second archer fell, impaled on ice.

Serana jogged to catch up with him, and when she reached him a wry smile adorned her face. 'Slowing down time? By Arkay you dragons are formidable.'

'Are you allowed to swear by Arkay?' Despair laughed, but his mirth was cut short when a great shadow swooped over them. Despair snapped his head up and his eyes opened wide.

_A dragon!?_ He froze. He barely caught a glimpse of the thing itself, but he was sure that the canvas-like stretch that had just flown over them was a dragon. He readied his voice, charging Dragonrend in his throat should the beast circle around and attack. Luckily it didn't and left the pair alone.

'Serana?' Despair asked calmly in the wake of the encounter.

'Yes?'

'Can I have my arm back please?'

Serana suddenly realized how tightly she was holding onto his side, or how close. Granted, it had become commonplace among the two to be close at times, but it didn't mean they didn't have to acknowledge it when it happened.

'Oh, sorry.' She blushed, shying off.

'No need to apologize, I still remember when those things used to frighten me every time one passed overhead.' Despair gazed darkly at the sky, scouring it for the dragon.

Eventually the pair started walking again, satisfied that they weren't going to be attacked. They soon came across a great wall, stretching further than the eye could see in each direction, and walked under an archway to a larger clearing than the one they had just been in.

'Arvak!? Where are you Arvak!?' A voice suddenly called. The pair stopped, seeing a ghostly figure in Light Armour regard them as he approached. 'You have to help me, my horse and I were trapped here and I can't find him!'

Despair frowned, they didn't have time for this – but the man was insistent. 'Please, Arvak was such a good horse!' Serana tugged at his arm – having reclaimed it – and pouted. With a sigh The Dragonborn turned.

'What can we do to help?' He offered.

'He's wandering somewhere in here, lost! Please find him, I beg you!' The man exclaimed. Despair was about to ask for what to look for or where when the soul suddenly turned around and started shouting out, as if forgetting about the conversation at all and returning to call for his "Arvak".

Despair blinked. 'That was odd.'

'We'll find you your horse.' Serana said to the distracted soul, tapping him on the shoulder.

'Oh thank you! Thank you so much!' The man abruptly began to fade, disappearing from sight.

Serana bounced happily with contentedness, until she looked up at Despair's disapproving face. 'What?' She asked.

'When people begin to expect you to do favours for them, they never stop.' Despair said cynically, turning and heading further into the Soul Cairn – his coat tails whipping behind him.

'Don't be like that! He just wants to find his horse again.' Serana said, catching up to Despair's side.

The masquerader sighed and smiled. 'For someone who missed the creation of the Empire, you're pretty naïve.' He chuckled. She hit him, but at that moment he added; 'You're cute when you're naïve, cuter than usual anyway.'

Serana's heart jumped. _Was that platonic!?_ Her mind screeched at her, wanting to wrap herself around the question until she was dizzy – but she managed to stave off the urge and returned to walking. It didn't help that his fingers returned to entwining with hers.

A few more minutes down the beaten path in the Soul Cairn and a few more skeletons brought to dust, the duo came in sight of a great mausoleum on a hill, towering above all else in the expansive grey plain. They were walking together, when Serana suddenly froze and looked up at the risen building, prompting Despair to ask what was wrong.

He didn't get his question answered though when she burst out of his embrace and sprinted up the hill, Despair quickly following.

'Serana! What are you doing!?' He called after her.

She didn't hear him, nor her feet pounding into the ground beneath her, nor anything else. Her mind was tugging at her, a heavy nostalgic sense that drew her to the mausoleum – blurring all other senses. When she reached it she leaped up the entire flight of stairs – using her undead strength to push off from the ground. Serana didn't stop her sprint as she hit the floor, using the jump for momentum. She kept going for a few metres, only stopping when she encountered an ethereal barrier, but it didn't stop her from seeing what was behind it.

Skulking in the pillars behind the barrier and tinkering with an Alchemy station, pale-skinned and dark-haired, was a woman that caused Serana to freeze in shock at the mere sight of.

'Mother!?' She called.

The woman suddenly stopped what she was doing at turned, her eyes widening at the sight of the younger girl standing in her presence.

'S-Serana…!?'

Valerica made her way slowly to her side of the barrier, coming face-to-face to her daughter and staring her in the eye. 'What are you _wearing_!? The woman asked incredulously as she beheld Serana's masquerade dress, a mixture of disdain and shock at her daughters revealing and tight-fitting attire.

'Not now mother…' Serana sighed, unbelieving that of all the things her mother would ask first _that _would be it – still, it was better than Harkon's; "Hello daughter, where's my Macguffin?"

At that moment the mother-daughter pair were joined as Despair ascended the steps and came beside his companion. The trio stood in silence for a moment, their brains trying to catch up with current events, before Valerica broke the wordless exchange.

'What are you doing here!? Does Harkon know you're-'

'No, mother – he's in a coma.' Serana interrupted quickly.

'What!? A coma!?' She looked at Serana in disbelief. 'How!?'

'Um…' Serana couldn't find the words quick enough to answer, but Despair began to talk before she had to.

'That's my doing.' Despair said flatly, giving a Kubrick stare at the elder vampire. Valerica was unmoved.

'Really?' She said skeptically. 'And pray tell how a _lesser _vampire defeated Harkon.'

'Why don't you wait until one does? I'm as pureblooded as you or he, or Serana.' Despair countered.

'What!? You're-'

Despair silenced her by pulling out the collar of his masquerade outfit, revealing the pale skin of his neck. Two red puncture marks sat side-by-side on his flesh, black veins branching out near them and fading as they got far under the skin. 'Your husband's bite. A reward for rescuing Serana from the tomb _you _put her in.' Despair said accusingly.

'What!? Valerica roared angrily. 'How dare you, do you have any idea of what's at stake!? You half-breed, low-born-'

'Mother!' Serana shouted. 'That's enough!'

Valerica stuttered, slowly softening as she looked on her daughter's face again. She recomposed herself, calming down and facing the other two again. 'I'm sorry. I first assumed that Harkon had found out how to fulfill his prophecy when I saw you and he wanted to use me.' She switched glances between the other vampires, settling on Despair. 'My apologies, I am-'

'Valerica, I know. Serana has told me plenty about you.' Despair finished.

Valerica frowned at being interrupted. 'And you are?'

'Despair.' He said flatly, giving no indication to his other persona's. Valerica was about to speak again but The Dragonborn beat her to it. 'So tell us, just _what_ is at stake here?'

The elder vampire spluttered a few quiet words, the question taking her off-guard. She narrowed her eyes at Despair. 'How do I know I can trust you?'

'Mother!' Serana shouted again, appalled at her parent's suspicion.

'No it's alright Serana.' Despair raised a hand. 'What do we have to prove to you?'

'That you aren't on Harkon's side. You could be lying for all I know – I can't rely on words.' She regarded Serana. 'I'm sorry my dear, but I'm long gone from a time where words can move me.'

'Then our actions will.' The younger female said. 'Let us have your Elder Scroll, we'll prove to you that we aren't on his side.'

'And I'm supposed to go on faith alone? I can't, not after what he did-'

'What did he do then?' Despair cut in.

'He…that prophecy took ahold of him, made him mad. It tore our family apart, and it would be disastrous for our kind if it were completed.' Valerica explained.

'Yes, we've already found out that he's trying to put out the sun. For the supposed betterment of vampires everywhere.' Despair added.

'No, that isn't all. Why do you think I hid Serana away with an Elder Scroll, and fled myself?' When Despair had no answer she kept talking. 'More than just the weapon of an Elfish god is required to complete the prophecy.'

'Serana's scroll mentioned a "dread lord rising from the vampires", I think.' Despair said.

'Yes.' Valerica went cold. 'Harkon, Serana and I – and now you too – are of a pureblood line, descended directly from Molag Bal himself. However, only Serana and I are what is called; "Daughters of Coldharbour.'

'Yes, I've heard that phrase before.' Despair confirmed, Serana beginning to look nervous next to him.

'The full prophecy says that the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour is required to taint Auriel's Bow and blot out the sun.' A grim expression rose of Valerica's face. 'That means that Harkon-'

'Need's either your blood or Serana's.' Despair said with morbid realization in his words.

'Exactly. Now you see why I trapped Serana in the tomb and why I have hidden myself here. It's fortunate Harkon hasn't discovered that much of the prophecy, or he wouldn't hesitate to kill us both to fulfill it.'

'So, he's our enemy then?' Despair asked, referring to himself and Serana.

'He's been your enemy since you met and hers before that.' Valerica answered.

'Alright then,' He turned to Serana, letting her know through his eyes what his next words would be. They'd already discussed it while dancing, but it was different this time – this time it was a declaration. 'We'll kill him.' He said determinedly, Serana twitched a little but stayed steadfast and silent, agreeing with the decision.

'What!?' Valerica shouted, scoffing in the process. 'Are you insane!?' A mocking laughter followed, Despair and Serana waiting patiently for her to finish.

'No vampire in centuries has come close to Harkon's power! He slew thousands of innocents for it; you can't possibly be anywhere near as strong as him!'

'Perhaps.' Despair said calmly. 'But I'm far more than just a vampire.' His eyes glowed at that statement, not the typical monstrous orange of vampires but the endless crimson of resembling Alduin, no longer seen on Nirn. 'You're saying that it's either him or you and Serana. There isn't much of a choice then.'

'You idiot!' Valerica glared. 'Don't be so wishful! You barely know of the struggle I've gone through to prevent Harkon succeeding, that Serana has gone through too!'

'Oh, and what does Serana make of that?' Despair asked.

'She-' Valerica faltered as she looked back to Serana. Her next words were interrupted before she got them out.

'What do I make of it?' Serana's face shifted to a gentle but cruel frown, she couldn't be truly angry at her mother but at the same time she had to be. 'If I am to take what you say as truth, mother, and then I'm just as much a pawn in your plan as in his!'

'Serana, no-!' Valerica tried to protest.

'Honestly mother, despite your noble intentions you were only looking out for yourself weren't you – I could have rot in Oblivion if it meant you opposed father, isn't that it!?' Serana accused. 'He may have driven the family apart, but you helped that in your own way.'

Valerica looked shocked, glancing angrily at Despair for catalyzing this reaction – but at the same time aware of her daughter's true feelings. She deflated, surrendering.

'I'm sorry…' She managed to say.

'I…I just wanted to be a family again. I know that it isn't possible by this point, but mother…' Serana pressed a palm against the invisible wall between them. 'Can you please help us?'

Valerica was silent for a while, until she eventually faced the two opposite her again and said; 'Alright. But you're going to have to do something for me first.'

'What?' Serana said impatiently. Her mood had simmered – having freed herself of her hidden emotions – but she was still hot with temperament.

'You can't lower this barrier without defeated the three Bone Keepers of the Soul Cairn.' Valerica explained. 'They're at the three tallest towers in the Soul Cairn. Return to me when they're slain.'

Despair grinned, eagerly facing the very familiar challenge of _killing things_. He was about to turn and complete the new quest, when Valerica said something else.

'There's a dragon in the Soul Cairn, Durnehviir. He's here as my jailer – a trial he took without realizing I'm as ageless as him. Usually he won't interfere, but if the Keepers are killed he may.' She warned.

Despair nodded in acknowledgement, walking down the steps and heading to the nearest tower.

_A friend of yours, World-Eater?_ He asked inwardly.

'_Geh, Dovahkiin. A powerful ally of mine – I did not know this was Dez Durnehviir – his fate.'_

Before Serana joined him she looked at her mother, a small smile on her face. 'It was good to see you, mother. And don't worry about that dragon; slaying them is…a talent of Despair's.' With that Volkihar's Princess ran off to join her counterpart.

She caught up and gave a smile to him, Despair returning one to her. They travelled in silence – as they had so often – the white sand beneath their feet churning every so often in the wind. As their target tower came in sight, Serana pressed at Despair's side and spoke.

'Despair…were you serious about killing my father?'

The question took him off-guard, but he quickly responded. 'I was. At least for me anyway, I shouldn't be speaking for you – if you're unsure about it – but he's threatening the world, and more than that he's threatening you. I can't stand by and let that happen.'

Serana felt a warm feeling rise up in her. She was about to say that she was alright with patricide – Harkon was hardly her father anymore, but Despair kept talking.

'If his intention brought about your death then I would take his life without hesitating.' She blushed lightly to the way he said it, so fierce, so forceful. 'There isn't a power in the world that I wouldn't protect you from.'

'Despair…I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. Not that I'm not thankful for all you've done for me, but you don't have to be so loyal to me out of a misplaced sense of debt.' She said quickly, ranting a little.

'It's…more than that…' He muttered under his breath. Serana's heart jumped at the implications of those words, but before she could ask about them he clammed up, looking away ambiguously. Serana frowned, but if Despair wouldn't say she couldn't push – especially after what she had said at the ball and refused to follow up.

_I can hardly be hypocritical to him._ She thought, little did she know though that if she had pressed, he would have yielded – and the true nature of their relationship would have become known to them. They would have stopped dancing around each other, hoping for their feelings to be reciprocated.

Nevertheless the two clueless vampires made it to the first tower and sitting at its front in a huge throne was the first Keeper. They ducked behind a nearby wall, crouching, and regarded their first target.

'_That's _a Keeper!?' Serana hissed. She gazed in surprise – not in fear, but shock nonetheless – at the giant creature. It was garbed in chalk-coloured armour that Serana didn't recognize from head to toe, its appearance heavy and thick. Next to her Despair was comparatively calm.

'Dragonplate Armour.' He muttered darkly. 'This will be such a joy.'

'Dragonplate?' Serana whispered back.

'Carved from the very bones of Alduin's ally's, it's a surprise that they're wearing it down here.' Suddenly the Keeper rose to its feet and Despair's eyes almost jumped out of the skull-sockets of his mask. It wasn't the fact that the creature was carrying a weapon that surprised him, but rather _what_ it was – a Dragonbone Battleaxe, Despair had never seen a Dragonbone weapon before.

'An axe!?' He blurted out upon seeing the Two-Handed weapon strapped to its back, just loud enough for Serana to clap her hand over his mouth – and for the Keeper to turn its head in their direction.

'You moron!' She slapped him, standing. 'Run!' Shouted she, pulled Despair's hand as the Bone Keeper lumbered toward them. Despair staggered to his feet, facing the Keeper while strafing back. Serana shot several blasts of Ice Spike at the advancing giant while Despair clenched his throat, desperately struggling to decide on the most effective Dragon Shout for the situation.

_To Oblivion with it!_ He thought. **'Tiid! Klo! Ul!'** He shouted, resorting to his most relied upon Shout.

He raced forward at the creature – faster than Serana's Destruction magic – and raised his fists. The huge figure raised its Dragonbone Battleaxe above its head and swung it down – The Dragonborn completely dodging the attack in temporal isolation. As Despair passed under it the heavy blade embedded into the ground, stuck.

'Too slow!' He roared, exhilarated.

He slid under the Keeper, rushing between its legs and getting to his feet behind it. Despair crouched, then suddenly pushed off from the ground – leaping into the air. He back flipped over the Keepers head – landing on the shaft of the ground-trapped battleaxe. The Keeper was still in slow motion – only just reacting to its weapon getting trapped – but Despair was way ahead of him.

The Dragonborn grinned right into the face of the Keeper – perched on its weapon by only his toes, his arms out to his sides – and sucked in a deep breath of air. **'Zun! Haal! Viik!'**

The second Dragon Shout winded Despair, but his efforts were paid as the Keeper staggered back, losing the grip it had on its weapon and falling over. Time suddenly restarted to a normal pace and a storm of ice from Serana blasted into the disarmed Keeper, keeping it on the ground for a while longer.

'Perfect!' Despair jumped down – pulling the Dragonbone weapon from the ground and taking it for himself. It was incredibly heavy – shown as Despair struggled to grip it with satisfaction – but as the Keeper rose up The Dragonborn jumped back into action. He lifted the battleaxe over his head and drove it deep into the chest of the Keeper. The taller creature swayed for a bit, before falling onto the sand and fading into black mist – leaving the battleaxe behind.

Despair couldn't help but admire his new prize – never having seen a Dragonbone weapon before – he picked it up and observed it, intending to dissect it when he had the chance so that he could learn how to forge one for himself.

'Ahem.' A voice said from behind.

Despair turned, seeing Serana with crossed-arms and pursed lips. 'At least warn me before you do stupid things like that, _again_.'

'Sorry. Kind of instinctive.'

'Just tell me next time. Come on, that's one.' Serana stated. Despair returned to her – with his new battleaxe – and they began to walk to the next tower.

A few minutes passed and the vampires had been walking at a brisk pace – but it seemed like they had hardly moved at all. They were truly beginning to understand the scale of the Soul Cairn and how long it would take to traverse it. Despair groaned, slinging the heavy Dragonbone Battleaxe over his shoulder as they walked – when suddenly a bolt of lightning shot past them.

Before them was a short tower on four pillars with an altar at the centre. Surrounding it were no less than eight black Bonemen, all charging spells at the pair. With a tired sigh both the vampires set to killing their new enemies – hardly a minute passing before the Bonemen lay at their feet in a pile of black ash.

'What were they guarding?' Despair asked; trying to see what was sitting atop the altar under the tower. He walked up to it, picking up a long, glowing object and observing it. 'It's…a horse's skull.' He stated.

Suddenly a flash of light appeared before him and he shielded his eyes with the horse skull. Lowering it, he beheld the flaming skeletal form of a horse, looking down at him. He looked from the horse to the skull in his hand, and back to the horse. Suddenly a sense of dawning realization hit him and he was about to say something when another voice cut in.

'Arvak.'

Both Serana and Despair turned to the direction of the voice, seeing the soul from before standing there with a smile.

'Thank you for freeing my Arvak from those Bonemen.' He seemed to be looking more at Serana – she had been more open to helping the man in the first place. His horse trotted up to him and he stroked its face. 'I want you to have him; he's such a good horse.' The soul suddenly said.

He began to fade, this time for good. 'Take care of him; he'll be loyal until your dying days!' The man called, and then he was gone.

Despair blinked for a moment, trying to catch up the sudden chain of events. 'Arvak…?' He repeated the name, confirming it in his mind as the skeletal horse returned to him and bowed its head. Experimentally he reached out to pat the creature – the steed whinnying in joy under his touch. As he stroked it the horse skull in his hand disappeared.

'Well,' He said as he turned his head to Serana. 'Looks like this won't take so long after all.' He wrapped an arm over Arvak's neck and swung himself onto its back, adjusting himself for comfort. Steering the steed slowly over to his female companion, Despair offered his hand to her.

'My lady.' He said.

'If you think I'm getting onto that boney beast, stop. I'd rather walk than suffer that amount of pain in my a-' She was suddenly pulled off her feet and onto the horse behind Despair. Within a moment she discovered that Arvak's decrepit appearance was actually misdirecting, and the horse was quite comfy to sit on.

'Hehe, you were saying?' Despair mocked.

Serana pouted and snaked her arms around Despair's front, pulling herself into a tight hug from behind. 'Just ride, idiot.' She said quietly. Heeding the words of his lady, Despair snapped at Arvak's ethereal reins and the pair set off, racing across the desolate land of the Soul Cairn. Within an hour they had slain the last two Bonemen – Despair expressing giddy delight as he pocketed another couple of Dragonbone weapons; a bow and a mace. A few minutes later they found themselves dismounting before Valerica's mausoleum and ran up to join the elder vampire, the barrier now gone.

'Good, now quickly – before Durnehviir attacks.' She ushered the younger night-children into the prison area, walking with them through the tall doors. 'I have to say I'm impressed that you two survived – though I expected nothing less of a Daughter of Coldharbour.' She smiled at Serana.

Serana rolled her eyes – it had long since passed that she would accept compliments from her parents, especially such a backhanded one as that. The threesome walked tentatively into the inner courtyard, resembling an arena – several black monoliths littering it like tombstones – before Valerica began talking.

'Alright. Before I give you my Elder Scroll, you have to promise me that you will stop Harkon. Whatever you do, do not allow him to complete the prophecy.' She said, desperation hinging at her voice.

'I won't.' Despair said sternly, glancing momentarily at Serana. _Failing to stop Harkon means I lose her…I cannot let that happen!_ He thought, reinforcing his words.

'Good. Now, let me lead you to-' Valerica's words ended as a deafening roar pierced the sky. The vampiric trio snapped their necks up, seeing the great shadow of Durnehviir descend from high in the sky. The dragon came closer into view, visibly snarling in rage, and settled on one of the taller structures at the opposite end of the prison, regarding his prey with malice.

'Damn it, it's Durnehviir!' Valerica cursed. She trembled at the sight of the dragon – knowing its endless hunt for her, but managed to walk forward – readying her hands with Destruction magic – when she was suddenly grabbed at the shoulder.

Volkihar's exiled queen was spun on her heel, coming face to face with Despair. She blinked in surprise, and then Despair told her; 'Stay here, I'll take care of him.' Almost as suddenly she was gently pushed aside and he walked forward, glaring back at the dragon as he entered the arena.

'Are you mad!? Durnehviir is a dragon, he'll kill y-' She was silenced as her daughter grabbed her shoulder and stopped her speech.

'Serana.' Despair called back. 'I think we should show your mother that I am capable of killing Harkon. This will be a perfect demonstration, so please stay back.' Serana was about to shout back at him, reminding him of the time he had fought Ancanor near Heljarchen and how he had told her to stay behind when Despair suddenly added to his words. 'Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. Dragon-slaying is one of my talents.'

As Despair reached the centre of the arena, he stared up at the perched dragon. He suddenly let out a short burst of raw Magicka, sand around the courtyard shifting in its wake. _Perfect, I can feel it returning to me. Not much longer and I'll be able to use my magic again._ He thought. _But until then…_

He grinned sadistically, willing his Vampire Lord form to take shape. Like last time, the pain was excruciating, but now he was expecting it and he remained composed as his body redefined itself. He let his bones break and reattach, longer than before. Now that the mask he wore was open-mouthed, his new teeth were visible in all their gory glory, dripping blood. Soon he found himself levitating, but the transformation was not yet finished.

Valerica watched unimpressed at Despair's display, showing off what she had experienced herself many times over. Next to her Serana watched with interest and admiration, looking hideously excited as they regarded the Vampire Lord transformation.

_All that is left is his wings…surely he could be a bit quicker about it_. The elder vampire thought cynically. That harsh impression was immediately ripped to shreds as two grotesque limbs suddenly burst from Despair's back.

Valerica stared, open-mouth in shock as she studied the large, black wings of Despair – unlike any other Vampire Lord's she had ever seen. In fact, they looked more like a-

'Dragonborn.' Serana stated the single word with meaning.

'W-what…?' Valerica could barely get her response out.

'Despair is Dragonborn. That's why Harkon is in a coma, when was the last time a vampire fed on dragon blood?' Serana said confidently, smirking at the man she pined after. 'Now watch, this will be quite a battle. It's rare that two dragons fight like this.' Valerica paled at Serana's summarization, but in truth the younger vampire was hiding anxiety behind her supportive bravado, she couldn't forget what had happened last time Despair had fought alone.

_Calm down, he's fought a lot of other times before I met him – I'm sure he isn't always suicidal._ She persuaded herself.

In front of them, Despair began to flap his wings – rising up into the air to become level with Durnehviir. The dragon regarded him with curiousity, before letting out a grand roar and rising into the air himself.

'Come, Durnehviir! Let's dance!' Despair laughed as he began to swoop in and out of the sky, chasing the larger beast in their airborne duel.

* * *

Quick thing, big thanks to all 7 of my reviewers (at the time this is posted), your words have been a good motivation for me to write quicker. No sarcasm here, I am grateful for your compliments, criticisms and all else that has come up - even if I have hinted otherwise in the past. Really, you're all a great help to me.

What else...? Oh yes, opinions on the romance subplot? Good, bad? I'm interested in knowing your thoughts. Yes, I know it's been dragging on for a long time without progressing much, but I do know how and when I will change that - just bear with me. Also, this fic is planned to keep going and going and going, so if I keep at it then this part where the romance is stagnant will seem relatively short.

Alright, thanks for taking the time to read that. Again, leave a review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the fic overall so far.


	8. Ice-Cold Flame

More Skyrim, hooray.

I do not own the Elder Scroll's series nor anything affiliated with it, my ideas are my own.

* * *

Despair could feel the power of each wing beat that Durnehviir enacted. A heavy gust of air would push him down slightly, impeding his ascension path as the dragon was still higher than him. Despair suddenly turned and fly to the side, then rose up away from Durnehviir's larger body to come level.

The bigger dragon growled and gave chase to Despair. He closed in, intending to bite down on the Vampire Lord when suddenly Despair disappeared, completely. Valerica's jailer blinked in surprise, hovering at the same spot in the air for a few seconds – when suddenly he felt a pair of claws dig into his tail. He jerked his head back and saw Despair holding on to the end of his tail, flapping his wings furiously to keep the bigger beast where he was.

A battle lusting grin rose on Despair's face – made doubly terrifying to behold by the skull mask he wore and the Vampire Lord visage under it. Durnehviir suddenly felt himself getting pulled, and the smaller dragon wrenched him through the air, spinning him around. Despair let go, and Durnehviir was sent flying into one of the nearby stone pillars, falling in a cloud of debris, black rock and flailing dragon limbs.

'Did he just…_physically overpower_ a dragon!?' Valerica stared in shock at Despair's hovering form in the air. 'That's not possible…even with the Vampire Lord…it's not possible…' She whispered.

Even Serana was having trouble believing it. Despair, _her_ Despair was so powerful – beyond imagining. Her mind chastised her for referring to Despair as something of hers, but she chastised it right back. _There's more to our relationship than just friends, and you know it! He probably does too!_ She gave a sigh to herself._ Then why is it so hard telling him?_

Her thoughts were interrupted when Durnehviir let out a loud roar, shooting out from where Despair had thrown him. He charged down The Dragonborn, only for Despair to disappear again – in a swarm of bats. They flew over and past Durnehviir, reforming into Despair's singular body. The dragon roared and circled around, trying to rush Despair again.

The Vampire Lord chuckled and started moving in the air, flying right into Durnehviir's path. Just before the two collided, Despair turned and led with his feet – kicking his claws into the dragon's snout. He pushed off and away from Durnehviir, creating distance.

**'Gaan! Lah! Haas!'** The dragon shouted at his nimble enemy, blasting the dark shockwave up at Despair.

The Dragonborn slowed his flight subconsciously, analyzing the shout with his eyes. _What is that?_ He thought, unable to recall that particular Dragon Shout amongst his arsenal – then he was hit by it. The wind washed over him, not feeling any force with it. For a moment the Vampire Lord hovered in confusion, and then he started falling.

Slowly at first, his wings flapped erratically to maintain his height, failing. After struggling like a drowning child in the air he plummeted, hitting the ground like a rock. As Despair tried to pick himself up – crawling on his hands – he heard Serana call for him.

'Despair!'

'Don't worry!' He called back, raising a clawed palm in her direction to stop her if she advanced. Looking up he saw Durnehviir descending, landing heavily on the ground a ways in front of The Dragonborn.

'Pahlok Joor. Zu'u Krii Him, Zu'u Krongrah.' The dragon bellowed, stating his disdain of Despair's arrogance and the imminent victory of Durnehviir. Despair looked up into the eyes of the dragon, unimpressed.

Slowly he rose to his feet, strength returning gradually. He noticed that has his vitality had waned before; Durnehviir's wounds had healed – now facing the fully restored dragon. _What was that shout…_His mind trailed off; he had more important things to worry about. _I wonder if I can use the Thu'um in this form…_

Despair regarded his clawed fingers and the extended proportions of his body. By this point he was standing and his wings began to flap again, letting him hover a few inches off the ground. Durnehviir prepared to lift off and soar into the air, but Despair suddenly roared out and stopped him.

'**Joor! Zah! Fruul!'** The light blue blasts of energy escaped Despair's throat and crashed into the dragon, suddenly twitching. His opponent shook his wings out, but couldn't use them – cloaked in the curse of Dragonrend.

Despair rushed forward, his wings propelling him at unprecedented speeds. He drew back his claws – appearing to punch the much larger Durnehviir in the face – and the dragon bit at him, only to chomp down on thin air, the Vampire Lord disappearing. Confused, the dragon flailed about, still terra-trapped – when he saw Despair's form recollect from a swarm of bats next to his right wing.

He curled his neck and willed Frost Breath to collect in his throat, only for Despair to dig his talons into the arena floor and grab Durnehviir's wing. The dragon widened his eyes in shock and Despair grinned, beginning to pull. They struggled against each other – the bones connecting wing to body not yielding – but Despair won out and lifted the dragon off the ground, flinging him several tens of metres into a wall.

'By Oblivion!' Valerica cursed as she watched the display. Her hands jumped to cover her mouth in shock, staring as Despair flew over to his foes fallen form.

'…Something like that…' Serana whispered, in equal amounts of awe.

Before Durnehviir could even move again Despair had already bat-swarmed to the dragon and gripped his snout. The Dragonborn's heels pushed into the ground, cracking the surface from sheer force – and he pushed up, flipping Durnehviir over his head with nothing but pure muscle power. The hulking dragon let out a roar as he was pulled through the air – silenced as he was pounded into the ground on his back.

Now the women were speechless.

As Despair turned to the dust-covered Durnehviir behind him – sprawled on his back – he readied his Thu'um power again, in case he needed it. Suddenly out of the debris Durnehviir's head lunged out and grabbed Despair between his jaws. The Vampire Lord had to hold the dragon's maw apart at his waist in order to prevent getting eaten, strain showing.

Suddenly the dragon flicked his neck up and threw Despair in to the air, flailing uncontrollably. Valerica's Jailer gave chase and soared up after his prey, charging an attack. **'Fo! Krah! Diin!'** He roared, shouting a wall of ice at Despair.

'**Yol! Tuur! Shul!' **The Dragonborn shouted back. Their breaths collided in mid-air between them, negating each other. Durnehviir kept climbing and shot through the impact aftershock – closing in on Despair.

He bit down again, but the Vampire Lord disappeared into a swarm of bats and reformed several metres away to avoid the attack. Despair beat his wings and shot down, slicing his claws into Durnehviir's left flank as he passed – leaving a long, bloody line down the dragon's side.

'GRRAAAAAAOOOOOHHH!' The dragon howled in pain, circling back to chase his enemy.

The dogfight turned into a series of twists and aerodynamic turns, with Despair completely out-maneuvering the bigger dragon and Durnehviir unable to hit him. Soon the bigger beast found himself flapping his wings to stay in the same location – with Despair circling around him with impunity.

Durnehviir snapped and lunged, missing his target again. This time however he went too far and lost his flight pattern, becoming unstable. As he struggled to realign his body Despair blasted him with shot after shot of Drain Life.

_More. More. More! MORE!_ Despair audibly laughed as another blood-red orb of energy – one after the other – left his hand and blasted into Durnehviir's side. The life-leech was taking its toll on the dragon as wounds began reopening, his scales splitting to reveal bare flesh.

'GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!' Durnehviir roared in rage. He charged at Despair, missing him as he transformed into another cloud of bats – still firing Drain Life at him. As the dragon passed Despair reappeared in time to grab his wing and fling him around, throwing him into the ground like a sack of rocks.

'Is this all you have, slave of the Ideal Masters!?' Despair taunted from the sky. Before another word could be gotten out, Durnehviir shot up and out of the debris cloud at Despair. The Dragonborn fired more Drain Life – to no avail, the dragon didn't slow. With a grunt Despair conjured a Gargoyle – something that was both a willful act and one that caught him by surprise – and tossed the stone creature at Durnehviir.

The stone shattered on impact with the dragon's nose, but forced him to close his eyes. Despair took his chance and shot right at Durnehviir. He reached his hands out and gripped the end of Durnehviir's snout, digging in with his claws. Muscles tensed, Despair flipped and vaulted over, landing square on Durnehviir's head between the eyes.

When the dragon realized what had happened he soared aimlessly, whacking his head side to side to lose the uninvited guest riding atop. Together they rose up higher and higher, going out of view of the arena and flying too high for the vampire below to see.

Serana sighed as she lost sight of them, turning to her mother. Valerica was still wide-eyed with shock and awe, staring up at the ethereal dome of the Soul Cairn. The younger of the two waited patiently for her mother to regain composure, regarding the elder. Eventually she did and she looked at Serana, looking surprisingly angry.

'You've been travelling around with…' She waved her arms up. '_that_!?'

Serana frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean? Despair is more than just some host for power if that's what you're suggesting.'

'Serana. I've been through much in order to ensure the prevention of Harkon's prophecy, I-'

'Shut up!'

Valerica was taken aback. 'What did you say…?'

'He's been looking out for me ever since we met – more than you've ever done!' Serana shouted. 'So what if he's Dragonborn!? So what if he's the first Vampire Lord to fly in…forever!? So what if he can throw a dragon around like a ragdoll!? He protects me, he will until his dying breath!'

'And you're so sure about that?' Valerica retorted. 'You can't-'

'I can't trust him!? Look who's talking, _mother_.' The word was said mockingly, stinging Valerica. 'I don't care what you say, I love him and I'm staying with him.' She said steadfastly. A second later she realized just _what_ she had said – her declaration. Granted it wasn't to him, but she still went silent in the aftershock – though she knew she would never take it back.

Valerica recoiled from Serana's passionate verbal beat down. Several seconds went by and the elder vampire went somber, looking down at the floor. 'Love…I once loved you father. Though I'm sure you knew that.' She looked up at her daughter, about to talk but was cut off.

'Despair…Despair isn't like Harkon. He wouldn't go power-mad.' Serana said. Valerica took a few moments to think of a response before settling on one.

'I hope you're right, for your sake.' She said quietly. At that point their conversation ended, but not because the words did. The sky tore open without warning and a large mass blasted out, shooting down like a meteor at the ground. As it came closer, Serana and Valerica recognized Durnehviir – his body torn up and bloodied – and atop his head was…

'He'd riding Durnehviir!?' Valerica groaned, torn between absolute amazement and the urge to slap herself at Despair's stupidity.

Durnehviir made a violent effort to lose his parasite, twisting and flailing – but failed as Despair's talons dug deeper into his head. He roared in pain, but it was overshadowed by Despair's Thu'um.

'**Joor! Zah! Fruul!'** Despair let loose Dragonrend, forcing Durnehviir to dive straight down at the ground, directed by Despair's talons curling into him. The blue-cloaked beast fell, propelled downwards in bondage. As Durnehviir came closer to the ground Despair hunkered down, lowering himself on the dragons head.

The world shook violently with the force of a high-powered earthquake as the dragon and its dominating rider crashed into the ground, sending shockwaves and chunks of rock everywhere. Serana and her mother covered their faces with their arms as the storm of dust and rock-hail burst out –their robes and Serana's revealing dress flapping in the wind. When the event subsided, the two she-vampires looked up at the damage caused and gasped in shock.

Lying before them was the motionless husk of a great, undead dragon. Durnehviir was dead – surrounded by a slowly disappearing cloud of dust – in a crater made from his crash. His elongated neck was twisted at a painful angle – broken outright with several bones sticking out of the flesh.

A dark silhouette staggered atop the dead mound, walking slowly towards the witnesses. Out of the smog emerged Despair – human once more – and he regarded the vampires staring at him. A moment passed without anyone saying anything, and then The Dragonborn broke the silence;

'Ladies.'

Valerica sighed and Serana groaned. Despair chuckled and stepped down from his kill – the corpse beginning to fade into ethereal purple behind him. 'So, was that un-suicidal enough for you?' He grinned, cupping Serana's cheek.

She couldn't resist smiling pushing his arm playfully away. 'Don't make it a habit.'

Despair breathed out an amused gust of air, before turning to Valerica, becoming more serious.

'Come. I'll give you the Elder Scroll. I'd say you've earned it – though a dragon is no way to measure your chances against Harkon.' She scolded, leading them to a corner in the arena.

'When was the last time you saw someone slay a dragon then?' Despair contested.

Valerica didn't stop as she spoke; 'Harkon…' Then she stopped. 'It doesn't matter. Come on, we're here.'

A small room within a tucked-away tower came into Despair's view. It was littered with various Alchemy ingredients and potions but at the centre was a long, gold-white box. Despair started into a run to retrieve the scroll, leaving Serana and her mother behind.

'So…him?' Valerica whispered privately to her daughter.

'What of it?' Serana scowled back.

'Nothing. He is…a proficient fighter – to say the least. If he does not go astray – like Harkon did – he will protect you.'

'I don't need you to tell me that.'

Valerica tensed. 'Serana, Despair is far more powerful than either of us – and Dragonborn to boot. If he ever went mad like your father, more than just our lives and the sun would be at stake.'

The younger vampire was about to counter her mother's argument again but by then Despair came trotting back, Elder Scroll in hand. The trio recollected and made for the doorway outside of the arena – no words between them. Despair was about to open the door and exit when he noticed that Valerica had stopped several metres behind.

'You aren't coming?' He asked.

Valerica shook her head. 'There's already too much being risk with only one Daughter of Coldharbour out in Skyrim. If I was there too – not to mention that Harkon actively hates me – then-'

'I understand.' Despair cut her off. 'When we kill Harkon we'll come back for you.'

The maternal figure nodded. 'I hope you do.'

With that the night-child triad broke into the familiar Despair-Serana duo and the two walked out the double doors and back into the open Soul Cairn. They passed the pillars but the moment they stepped out into the open Despair froze.

'Hail, Quanariin.'

Despair adopted a fighting stance and bared his canines, glaring up at the perched form of Durnehviir.

'I bide you no ill will. Your Kongrah was destined; I bow my head to you.' The long neck of the dragon lowered, eye contact never wavering between the winged beast and its species avatar among mortals.

'What do you want?' Despair asked with hostility.

'Zu'u Durnehviir, and you bested me. However, I am trapped here against my will – until the end of time. I wish to soar once more in the skies of Nirn. Call my name, and I shall be yours to command.'

The Dragonborn looked warily at Durnehviir, considering the offer. _I already have Odahviing…I have no need for a second dragon under my belt. _However he couldn't resist grinning._ Paarthurnax did say it was in the inherent nature of dragons to dominate though…_

'I accept, Durnehviir.' As he spoke the name he felt the power of the Dragon Tongue vibrate through him, confirming the validity of the words. The dragon bowed his head in gratitude and lifted off, flying away into the depths of the Soul Cairn.

Serana quietly watched the exchange in anxiety, settling down when Durnehviir flew off. She then gave a glance out to the distance between them and the portal out of the Soul Cairn, frowning in the face of the great land they had to cross. She began to walk, but Despair took her hand and stopped her. 'Wait.'

He quietly closed his eyes and focused, delving into his thoughts.

_There it is._

He opened his eyes and smiled down at Serana. 'My magic had returned.'

Without warning he flicked his free and out and snapped his fingers – shooting a great tendril of lightning out and blasting a hole in the sand. 'HAHAHA!' He laughed, firing off another blast – and again. His entire right arm up to the shoulder buzzed with electricity – sparking each time he fired a shot.

'Perfect.' He said, exhilarated.

'Yes, because you can only beat down a dragon with your bare hands without it.' Serana deadpanned, squeezing the hand that held hers. 'But do you have anything in that arsenal of yours that'll make our journey less arduous?'

Despair considered the request, before smirking and deactivating the Destruction spell – replacing it with a swirling ball of black and purple energy in his palm. He cast it out, summoning a creature before their eyes – Serana's opening wide when she saw the creature itself.

'Arvak.' Despair announced.

'You can _summon _him at will!? That isn't fair.'

'Life isn't fair, luckily we're undead.' Despair began to lead her down to the skeletal horse. He swung himself up onto Arvak's back first, helping Serana after him. She wrapped her arms around his torso and they set off.

Soon they reached the rising stairway that led to the portal, dismounting Arvak and ascending. As they reached it Serana stopped and gazed back at the distant mausoleum, Despair waiting for her. After a few moments he spoke up, reassuring her. 'Don't worry; we will come back for your mother.'

She nodded and turned back to him, entering the swirling mass together and returning to the mortal plane.

_**Castle Volkihar, Valerica's Laboratory.**_

They entered the Alchemy lab and quickly walked down to the lower level, taking a moment to recall their bearings. 'Alright, the party has probably ended by now so we have to be careful leaving.' Despair said.

'Not really. We are purebloods, so we don't have to answer for anything as far as the court goes.' Serana responded, much more familiar with the custom of Volkihar's vampires.

'Wonderful.' Despair perked up. 'Though I still don't want to go out the front…between drunk Garan, the rest of the vampires staring at your dress and having to walk past thralls without drinking – I'd rather not.'

'We still have to get our gear.' Serana reminded him.

'Of course, as good as you look wearing that…' He indicated her dress. '…We're probably going to need something more battle-appropriate.' Serana blushed.

With that they split up again, agreeing to meet back at Valerica's Laboratory when they had changed. It took Despair precisely eight minutes and eight seconds to sprint through the corridors and find his stuff, and another two to put them on. He returned to the room first – garbed in his Arch-mage robes, Dragonscale Gauntlets and Boots, Serana not back yet. However, he was far from alone – as along with the apocalyptic dragon in his subconscious he was trapped with his thoughts.

_Why is it so hard to admit it to her? You're basically certain that she likes you back – just say you do too._ One of the voices in his head chastised him as he leaned against a wall.

_It isn't that simple. I…love her._ He responded.

_You're denying that she does too because you don't believe good things don't happen to you._ It spat back.

_That isn't true._

_It is. You're so cynical that you believe reality itself would lie to you about something good happening. So you have to deny it and deny it, all the while still hoping for it to be true._

Despair frowned. _So what would you have me do? I cannot trust reality._

_Trust Serana._ The voice advised. Despair blinked, how he could be so unaware of the simplest answer evaded him. He massaged his temples – not currently wearing Morokei – and sighed.

_What do you think, Alduin?_ Despair opened the question to his inner entity.

'_I think you're an idiot.'_ The dragon snarked back.

'Heh, thanks.' He mumbled out-loud to himself, sardonic.

'For what?' A familiar feminine voice asked out of nowhere. Despair looked up – seeing that Serana had returned and was wearing her normal Royal Vampire Robes – and he stood up off the wall.

'Nothing.' He chuckled. 'Do you know of anywhere we could escape other than the front?'

'Well there is the balcony just outside the lab, but-'

'Perfect.' Despair cut her off and grabbed her, leading her to a door in the corner of the room. They walked out together, and only then did The Dragonborn realize what that "but" must have meant. They were _very _high up. Serana looked at him judgmentally, crossing her arms.

'No problem.' He said, peering over the edge. 'Take my hand.' She complied – and without warning the pair exploded into a singular swarm of bats – Despair controlling the Blood Magic ability with ease. They flew together – both as one and in each other's embrace – for several leagues over the waters around Castle Volkihar.

After little less than an hour they touched down and returned to their normal bodies on the northern coast of Skyrim, somewhere between Icewater Jetty and Solitude. There were mountains to one side – decorated with trees – and the ocean on the other. They milled about for a bit, getting attuned to their regular forms for a bit before Despair took out Valerica's Elder Scroll and examined it.

'We can't read it.' Serana stated. 'And Dexion is blind, so what do you plan to do?'

Despair was silent, thinking of his answer. Eventually he said; 'We'll ask Dexion if there's another way to read it.' He put the scroll away and looked to Serana.

'But he's all the way at Heljarchen, we may not have time.' She said. 'We're racing against my father remember, he isn't going to be in a coma forever.'

'True.' Despair agreed. He'd read Elder Scroll's before – but that was one connected to his prophecy as Dragonborn. In addition it had also been at the Time-Wound, as far as he knew there wasn't any nearby Elder Scroll-affected areas. Suddenly his mind clicked and he walked up to Serana.

'Serana. You try reading it.' He held up the Elder Scroll from Valerica.

She stared at him for a bit, questioning his sanity. 'What!?'

'You're a Daughter of Coldharbour – and Valerica said that your blood is the key to completing the prophecy, it's connected to you.'

Yup, he was mad. 'How would you even know that!?' She asked.

'I've read one myself – the prophecy connected to me saving the world as Dragonborn.' He answered. 'But I could only do it because it was related to me. It's the same for you.'

She blinked several times. 'You're asking me to…read an Elder Scroll? I can't Despair, I'm not you! I don't possess the soul of an immortal monster!' She protested. As the fact dawned on him he clenched his teeth in frustration. Then his mind reached another solution and he spoke up – or rather acted.

'Here.' He pulled his hood down and exposed his bare neck to her – the same side Harkon had punctured. 'Take my blood – dragon's blood – so that I'll be with you.'

Again Serana flinched. 'Don't you remember what happened to my father – we can't drink your blood.'

'This is different; I'm giving it to you willingly.' She frowned at him, reluctant. 'Serana, we don't have another option – not unless we risk Harkon waking up before we're ready.' Slowly her mind came to agree and she walked up to him.

'You're sure?' She asked, he responded by nodding.

Despair however had an ulterior motive in his desire for her to drink his blood. His quick mind had recalled that pureblood vampires could see memories from those they drank from – he hadn't seen it with Serana when he had drank from her because he wasn't focusing on it, and he was young for vampire standards. Serana however would be privy to much inside his mind – including his feelings for her. It wasn't as much as him learning of her feelings – but if she knew how he felt, then perhaps…

_This is…my confession to you, Serana._ He thought as she prepared to drink. Of course, reading the Elder Scroll was a priority – but who's to say it's the only one?

Serana looked down at Despair's pale flesh and her mouth watered. Her tongue darted out and made her lips wet in anticipation. Tentatively she lowered her jaw and opened her mouth, exposing her fangs. There was more than instinctive hunger in her eyes as she leaned down to bite – but lust. Her lips lay bare on his skin – not puncturing his neck yet – and her tongue gave a long, slow lick, Serana savouring her saviors taste. She slowly pushed her teeth down and they easily broke the skin – letting her drink of his blood.

Her eyes widened as her senses were overcome with carnal euphoria, taking her first mouthful and drawing his essence into her cavern. Eyes closing in sin and moaning into him, her hands gripped his shoulders – keeping her upright due to her knees buckling – as she sucked harder and harder onto him, giving into lust. The virginal nethers of Serana heated up as her arousal rose, rapidly climbing to a peak. She was engrossed, enthralled and enamoured, and she never would have let go of her first ever sexual outlet had Despair not stopped her.

'…Serana?' He gasped, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

She suddenly realized what she was doing – as well as the sounds she was making – and pulled off from him. His blood still filled her mouth and coated her lips as she stepped back, embarrassed. Serana couldn't help but drink the remnants of Despair's blood, such a succulent taste.

'S-sorry!' She blurted out. 'Despair I'm so sorry!'

He hunched over, chuckling raggedly. 'No it's alright…I did offer…' Panting lightly, Despair grinned and stood straight – belaying the anxiety he felt as to whether she knew what he wanted her to. 'But you really got into that…the noises you were making, it was almost like-'

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her hands at him. 'Don't say it!' Her normally snow-white face turned a pink blush. Her arousal still hadn't settled down quite yet.

'Heh.' He suddenly winced in pain as the sun rose up over the clouds.

_Dawn._ He thought, drawing his hood up over his head and placing the mask of Morokei over his face. Serana pulled her hood up too – but more in an attempt to hide her face. She looked at him, worry in her eyes – among other things – that she'd taken too much blood from him.

'Hey…' Despair started. 'Don't worry about it, just a little Restoration magic and…' He trailed off and healed himself. The bloodless pale that he suffered after Serana's love-bite washed away as the magic was cast. 'Though I should have anticipated _that_ particular reaction, vampires have a thing for-' He teased.

'MMMMmmmm!' Serana cut him off.

Despair couldn't help but smile behind the mask. 'You're so damn cute Serana.' He watched her try to hide behind her hood – to no avail. She didn't think she'd ever live this down, going internally berserk with mad thoughts until she suddenly felt a hand grab her shoulder gently.

'Serana.' She looked up, seeing Morokei but recognizing Despair. 'Tell me, what did you see of my memories?' His anxiety was well hidden from her, but it riddled him inside.

_Your memories?_ Serana pondered.

Her thoughts swam wildly, only seeing things she herself had experienced and stored in her bank. Then she suddenly came across a new section – somewhere she'd never seen before – and her mind pictured a great black lockbox, decorated with snarling dragon carvings. Calming down she imagined herself opening it with a key – but there was no key – so she picked the lock, and it broke.

_What are you trying to tell me, Despair?_ She asked herself.

The lid opened slowly, curiousity directing her to peer inside. What she saw was not a collection of all of Despair's memories, but a fair few – including all of those since they had met and a few from before that. She entered a subconscious hallway filled with paintings – each one depicting an event or recollection from Despair's past. She passed several – ones showing snarling dragons being felled by his power, ones presenting friends and enemies he'd made in the past and ones with everything else imaginable.

However one caught her eye and she stopped to observe it. She recognized herself – Serana – in the frame and stared. The painting had no title, nor was it any specific memory drawn from the time they had shared, but in an instant she understood what it signified – what he was trying to say.

_Love._

Back in the real world she found that he hadn't moved and was still looking at her. Neither moved for several seconds, until she reached up to take his hand off her shoulder and into her own – entwining their fingers. Her emotions welled up and overflowed inside of her, breaking the capacity of feeling she could hold. Tears of joy began to flow from her eyes, falling down her smile-stretched cheeks. Despair almost couldn't believe the reaction he was seeing, and with bated breath he froze, awaiting her words.

'Me too.' She said quietly, answering the question before he could ask it. Finally, confirmation for both of them.

The non-beating heart within Despair's chest jumped, his feelings confirmed to be mutual. He brought his other arm around and pulled Serana into him, taking them both into their deepest and most sincere embrace yet.

'I love you, Serana.' He said to her, hearing it for the second time – but the first in his voice.

'I love you too, Despair.'

They stayed like that for a considerable amount of time – and would have continued were Despair any less distractible than he was. Unfortunately for their relationship – and fortunately for the rest of the world – The Dragonborn remembered that they still had a prophecy to prevent.

'So…is this the part where we kiss?' Serana asked nervously, her fingers twitching near the edges of Morokei. She jumped when Despair chuckled lightly.

'I'm afraid not, Serana.' He brushed a hand through her raven hair, sounding truly unhappy – he knew he already would have were the mask not in the way – it gave him time to think. 'There is the Elder Scroll to worry about still. However, on that note…how do you like your gift?'

'I…I've never been happier in my life, it's the most perfect thing in the world – to know you love me.' She sounded melodious, like a girl realizing her phantasmal dreams were a truth – which was the case. Since she'd confirmed to herself that she loved him, this is what she'd been waiting for.

'Haha, no…the other gift.' Despair reiterated.

'Oh? Oh, the dragons blood!' She realized. She drew her head back from the hug – their faces so close, only separated by a hairs breadth of air and Morokei. Despair was fortunate he was wearing the mask – else she would see the effect that the mutual revelation had had on him. Of course she also remembered that she still had to read the Elder Scroll – and she distilled her emotions, saving them for a later date – in favour of reading the scroll.

'It's…I feel powerful.' As she looked at him he noted that at the very centre of each eye a crimson red glow shone out of the vampiric orange – mimicking his own and the eyes of the World-Eater, albeit to a lesser extent.

He offered her the Elder Scroll – their supposed original reason for having her drink his blood . 'Don't worry, I'm right here.' He reassured her, holding onto her from behind around her waist as she unfurled the scroll. For a moment nothing happened – the blank page simply stared Serana back – then suddenly a burst of light jumped out at her and she yelped.

'Serana!' Despair called, but she didn't answer – her eyes were now completely lit, shining brightly like the sun. He could hear the dim sound of chanting coming out from the Elder Scroll – but couldn't make out any of the words. Several minutes went by – the lights in her eyes brightening – and he held on to her tightly. Then it was over in a flash of light.

She panted, dropping the scroll and doubling over. 'Serana!' Despair called again, this time receiving a response.

'Don't worry…I'm alright…' She breathed out, slowly straightening back up in his arms and looking him in the eye. 'And I know where Auriel's Bow is.'

…

A quick summon of The Dragonborn's favourite red-skinned, winged friend; Odahviing – and the two were off to the location Serana had described. They were travelling through the northern part of The Reach, climbing up and down the mountainous terrain in search of their quarry.

However, both of them could hardly care less at the current moment. The entire ride over on Odahviing's back was spent in deep embrace – unfiltered joy between them. How amusing that things were both so hectic and so marvelous for them now that they knew. Even through fountains of Forsworn blood they spilled they couldn't stop that emotion; their love.

Eventually they approached a small dark cave sitting inside a subtle nook in the landscape. 'So this is the place?' Despair asked.

'Darkfall Cave. I'm sure of it.' Serana confirmed.

'Any idea what's in here?' He peered into the shadowed entrance. 'Doesn't look very…Auriel's Bow-y.' She sighed.

'Don't act like you don't trust me.' She quipped.

'Don't even joke about that.' He smiled, looking down at her and inviting her up to the entrance. 'Come on, I'll lead.'

They entered the dark trough and crept through the shadows – their eyes adjusting to the darkness without difficulty. The first foe they faced through the winding corridor was a Frostbite Spider – the creature not even noticing the Bound Scythe cleaving through its head. Continuing in silence – their hands brushing against one-another in the tight space every so often – they eventually reached a large cavern, two platforms separated by an old-looking bridge. Despair frowned as he peered over the edge – a deep chasm with a pool of water at the bottom – and stepped back.

'Do you see something?' Serana asked from behind.

'No…let's try the other side of that bridge.' Despair started walking – his love in tow. They reached about halfway over when the wooden planks suddenly began to split and break. Despair flinched and grabbed Serana's hand, jumping for the ledge in the same movement. He dug his vampiric claws into the rock, hanging by his arm.

'Are you alright?' He looked down at the she-vampire clutching onto his forearm.

'…Yeah.' She connected her eyes with his. 'Pull us up.'

_You don't even need to ask._ With a grunt he pulled and brought himself chest-high to the platform, swinging Serana up with his other hand first. She clambered onto the platform and fixed herself, leaning down to help The Dragonborn after.

With a teasing grin she asked; 'Why'd you pull me up first, I'm not heavy am I?'

'Not at all.' He breathed. 'Only with the weight of my affection.'

She blushed and groaned at the same time. 'Very clever, you could have just as easily had used the word "love", we've already-'

'Overusing the word devalues it.' He cut her off quietly, gazing back over the chasm to the entrance they'd left behind. As he tried to think of a solution Serana began entwining herself with him, her arms around his torso and snaking a leg around his thigh. Despair stiffened – in more than one way – and looked at her.

'Of course, that doesn't mean we love each other any less.' She whispered into his ear, huskily. He words had their desired effect on The Dragonborn; however he broke into a laugh, surprising her.

'My, my Serana, what a horny little minx you are. I could hardly guess that this was the same girl as the one who I saved from Dimhollow.' He said between the breaths of amusement. His lady turned as red as a setting sun and buried her head deep into his shoulder, prompting more laughter. 'We'll make time for us, later.' Despair snaked an arm around her lower back, pulling her tighter. 'But for now we have a divine weapon to collect.'

Refocusing on the task at hand, Despair looked around the cavern. The way they had come from was barred from them, over on the other side of the chasm. Granted they could easily fly, but what point would there be to go back?

He edged over and looked down the pit, observing the water. _It looks deep enough._ He thought.

Serana suddenly felt herself pulled and swung up; finding herself in Despair's arms carried bridal-style. At first she looked at his face – seeing past Morokei completely – before realizing just where they were standing. She looked down at the chasm and knew what Despair was going to do.

'Don't you dare.'

A light chuckle was all she heard before she was tossed down, splashing into the water and being pulled through the rapid torrents connected to the basin. As suddenly as it started she was flushed out into another large cavern, clothes, hair and skin soaked as she rose to her feet, spluttering. A few seconds behind her, Despair came splashing out and landed in a heap of Dragonborn. She scowled at him as he rose, shaking his robes out.

'Never do that to me again.'

He smirked behind Morokei. 'Can't promise anything, you look good when wet.' Eyeing her, Despair noted the way her skin shined and how her dark hair clung to it. Even more prominent was that her clothes stuck to her body quite well, highlighting her assets.

Her frown subsided and they went back to drying themselves off. Satisfied with being "moderately damp" they continued, encountering a large pack of Frostbite Spiders quite quickly. Serana did her best to keep up, but with his magic returned Despair tipped the tally in his favour immensely.

He cleaved through the first and second spiders with his Bound Scythe all in one stroke, conjuring a Bound Spear in his other hand and throwing it immediately after at a third – using the same arc of momentum. He followed up by covering himself under Lightning Cloak and – with the speed of Whirlwind Sprint – punted his fourth kill into the rock wall. Three spiders remained and two of them were already pin-cushioned with Ice Spikes.

With a grin he faced the final critter, skittering away in fear as Despair advanced on it. He ditched his weapons and clapped his hands together, charging lightning between them. The spider had gotten a few metres further by the time Despair had finished channeling his magic reserves – fixing all of it to his right hand and putting his left in his pocket. He stretched his hand out, splaying his fingers and fired his Destruction magic. No mercy was shown as a beam of electricity lit up the cavern and tore a hole right through the creature's main body, reducing it to eight, burn-stumped legs.

Immediately after Despair shut down the spell and the shadows returned to fill the space one again. Serana stumbled beside him – temporarily blinded from the flash of light – and grabbed his shoulder for balance. 'What was that?' She asked.

'Master-Level Destruction magic. Not at its full power though, that was a quick-cast.' Despair answered, leading them deeper into the cave. Serana nodded in acknowledgment and shook her head loose, regaining her vision.

Deeper through the cave they went – the corpse of a Giant Frostbite Spider one of many more left in their wake. They passed a forked path – discovering that it melded back again anyway. Escaping that tunnel brought them to the largest cavern yet, filled with water in some places. Despair and Serana easily slaughtered the two Troll's there, continuing through – when Serana suddenly froze and sprinted forward, just like when they had found Valerica.

'This is it!' She called excitedly as Despair chased after her.

The cave panned out and several gentle lights glowed in the area they were heading. Despair slowed in wonderment at the strange architecture filtered through the rock around them, but Serana kept sprinting ahead. Her footsteps continued echoing, only when they stopped did Despair pick up the pace again and give chase.

'Serana! Serana, where are you!?' He called out, searching through the lights in the cavern. It was then that he saw her from behind – feeling a pulse of relief – and another figure facing her. Despair caught up with them – they were standing in front of an ivory-toned dome in the ground, intricately carved.

The second figure – one Despair didn't recognize nor could even put a race to, certainly Elvish though – gazed at him thoughtfully as he approached, switching between himself and Serana. He saw his other staring open-mouthed at the taller man. 'Who are you?' The Dragonborn asked, pulling Serana close protectively.

The Elf stared at him, Despair staring right back. Tall – taller than even the Altmer – and with skin that was less as pale as snow as it looked like snow itself. He was wearing a chalk-white, decorative armour that fitted well, but looked heavy on his frame – less so due to its actual weight and more akin to guilt or regret, things Despair knew well.

'I am…Knight-Paladin Gelebor, last of the Snow Elves.'

* * *

So readers, what do we think? Overall thoughts, Despair curbstomping Durnehviir, the romance finally reaching a new point? Good/bad? Leave a review.

Yes I know it would have been very nice for them to have kissed, but bear with me. On that note, was it too forced or too awkward? The mind-reading via blood isnt much of an asspull, as vampires in all sorts of lore can do that.

If anyone was wondering - the reason Serana seems so horny post-"we love each other" is down to two things. Firstly, the act of drinking blood - or at least in my interpretation - is viewed in the same light for vampires as sexual foreplay. On it's own that brought Serana's arousal up quite high, added to the fact that she realizes that Despair loves her too. Secondly, Serana is - at least I believe so from extensive gameplay, etc - relatively sheltered and naive, coupled with the fact that she's spent more than an era in Dimhollow. Molag Bal not counting for obvious reasons - Despair is the first romance and experience with love she's ever had; so she acts on emotion without knowing to control herself - and her emotion tells her to lust as much as love.

For all those waiting for some graphic stuff between our protagonists, dont worry - it's sure to come. Granted, they havent even kissed yet - but just wait.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed, be sure to leave a review below! Thanks.


	9. Cain and Abel

I do not own the Elder Scrolls nor anything affiliated with it.

* * *

Despair blinked, taking a second look at the man before speaking. 'I'm sorry…Snow Elf?'

Gelebor nodded. 'Yes, I have been guarding this shrine for-'

The Dragonborn cut him off. '_Snow Elf_,' He repeated. '…as in the things that the Falmer once were?' He questioned. Gelebor cringed, narrowing his eyes at Despair.

'Please. Do not associate me with those twisted creatures. We call them The Betrayed – they no longer bask in the light of Auri-El as our kind once did.'

'Auri-El? Don't you mean Auriel?' Serana asked.

'To us; Auri-El, to you; Auriel – though I imagine the Nord's of Skyrim are more familiar with Akatosh. Past this cave and in the Forgotten Vale is the Chantry of Auri-El, sadly it has fallen into ruin along with the Snow Elves that once gathered there.' A sigh of regret passed his face. 'I was a knight of Auri-El, one of the Chantry's protectors. When The Betrayed attacked, we fought them off – but there were simply too many to defeat and the Chantry fell.'

'This Chantry…this was where Falm-, Snow Elves practiced their worship of Auriel?' Despair asked.

'Yes, though no longer. My brother now leads The Betrayed within its walls, corrupted by their foul presence.'

'Your brother?' Serana asked. 'You said you were the last of the Snow Elves.'

Gelebor turned to her, his eyes piercing hers with his icy gaze. 'My brother; Arch-Curate Vyrthur has locked the sanctuary down and hides himself within it. While he resides there with The Betrayed I cannot venture there – nor can you.'

'So, you want us to kill him – yet you won't yourself?' Despair asked, his tone accusing. Beside him Serana glared fiercely, the nature of the question paralleling her own. They'd agreed to slay Harkon themselves – it insulted her when Gelebor was asking for them to kill his kin.

'You must understand. While it is hard enough to do with all of The Betrayed in the way, I cannot kill my own brother – even if I was given the chance.' He pleaded. 'I know you're here for Auriel's Bow.'

Despair and Serana did a double-take. 'How did you-'

'It doesn't matter. While Vyrthur is in the way you cannot obtain it.' Gelebor began walking away, indicating for the other two to follow. 'Here is one of the Wayshrines of Auri-El, this will lead you to the others.' As he approached the large ivory-toned dome behind him, the ground shook. Despair watched as the dome rose up on several pillars and opened into an archway – revealing an alter with a basin on top inside of it. To his amusement, Serana gaped in wonderment.

'That isn't that impressive.' He whispered into her ear. 'I've seen Nordic crypts with more spectacular machinations – then there are the Dwemer ruins in a whole different league.'

Serana blinked and whispered back. 'Dwemer ruins? What happened to the Dwarves?'

Despair remembered that Serana was still _quite_ a ways behind on current affairs. He was going to have to educate her when this was all done.

Gelebor stood proudly before the Wayshrine, waiting for the two vampires to join him. As Despair came near the Snow Elf held out an elegantly carved jug for The Dragonborn to take. As he took it, he gave a puzzled look to Gelebor. 'This is the Initiate's Ewer. As you travel through the Wayshrines you must dip the Ewer into the basin and proceed to the next one.'

Despair frowned as he tested the Ewer's weight. 'What's this thing for?'

'Initiate's to Auri-El's Chantry would complete this ritual in order to gain an audience with the Arch-Curate. They would enter the Chantry by filling it up and pour it into the basin at the Sanctum.'

'Why?'

'It's symbolic.' Gelebor stated matter-of-factly, as though the question itself was redundant.

'So your people would carry these around from Wayshrine to Wayshrine only to dump it?' Serana added.

'I was not one of the Initiate's myself, so I can only assume.'

Serana deadpanned. 'So you want us to go to each Wayshrine, carry this pitcher around full of water, dump it when we actually get to the place, kill you brother – and _then_ we get Auriel's Bow?'

'I know how it all sounds, but-' Gelebor tried to justify, but Despair cut him off.

'Save it. As long as we know how to get the Bow I'm satisfied.' He walked forward, entering the Wayshrine and filling up the Ewer with the first basin. As he did, one of the empty arches inside suddenly transformed into a portal, depicting a dark cave. Regarding it, Despair stored the Ewer away and curled his fingers at Serana, calling her to him.

By the time she reached him, he had already stuck a hand into the portal – sinking in without feeling. Pulling the limb back out caused ripples to echo on the image, which he watched until they faded.

'Gelebor.'

The Snow Elf tilted his head up at Despair from outside the Wayshrine, seeing the back of The Dragonborn's hood.

'How powerful is Vyrthur?' He asked without looking away from the portal.

'He is stronger than any of The Betrayed, strong enough to clear out the Sanctum alone if he wanted to.'

Despair chuckled, taking Serana's hand into his. 'A mass-murderer of priests and holymen? Come on world, throw me a challenge.' He waded into the image, taking his love with him and leaving Gelebor behind.

_**Darkfall Passage.**_

Despair let out a sigh as he and Serana appeared in the dark cave he had seen before. The shadows cloaked the passage and would have blinded the two – but they saw through with ease via their vampiric sight. Before they even took a step however, Serana coughed and crinkled her nose.

'What is _that_ smell!?' She gagged.

Despair took a few experimental sniffs of the air – his sense of smell augmented by vampiricy – and a strong, revolting odor hit him hard. Cringing, he answered with; 'Falmer.' Immediately his combat instincts kicked in, flexing his hands out and channeling Magicka to each fingertip.

The Dragonborn led, tailed by his queen. After a few metres of sodden ground he suddenly stopped, holding an arm out. 'On my mark…fire at that hollow over there.' He whispered, indicating to a hole high in the wall. Serana stayed behind while Despair sauntered up to the indent, peering into it.

Suddenly a deformed, pale face popped out – followed by the goblin-like body attached to it – and jumped out at Despair.

'**Tiid! Klo! Ul!'** He bellowed, catching the Falmer in mid-air, suspended in time. Despair stepped back and turned to Serana, extending his hand as an invitation to fire her magic. To her surprise, Serana found that she could keep up with the Time Slow Shout, even understanding what each word meant. She gaped in awe at the frozen Falmer, herself still moving normally.

'How…?'

'My blood now runs through your veins.' Despair calmly explained. 'Dragons blood, so you can understand my Thu'um and keep up. Granted, you won't be able to absorb dragons' souls as I do – I gave you my blood, not my soul.'

Serana took in the information. 'That's…amazing.' The sentiment of having his blood meant far more to her now, and Despair had to call to her again to pull her back to his temporally altered reality.

'Time's almost up.' He laughed mockingly, indicating at the Falmer.

'Oh, right.' She raised her hands and fired, pelting the non-moving enemy with Ice Spike and Lightning Bolt. When time restarted the creature fell to the ground limply, Serana's attack proved effective.

'So when you shout now…I shout with you?' She asked, trying to make sense of how she hadn't suffered the effects of his Thu'um.

'No, not that. You aren't affected by it because you have my blood inside of you.' Despair twitched his fingers at her, calling with hand motions. 'It's my dragons' blood that makes me immune to my own shouts, it's just extended to you now.'

She trotted up beside him and they resumed their pace, going deeper into the cave. All was well – as well as slaying all the Falmer they encountered to go at least – until something Despair hadn't anticipated happened. They were walking through another tight corridor – one after the other – when suddenly a large, goo-covered pod burst open and Despair was pushed against the wall by a pair of sharp pincers.

'Despair!' Serana called, shielding her eyes form the goo and stepping back.

The Dragonborn was protected from the liquid discharge by his mask, and saw the monster attacking him. It had large compound eyes, accentuated by the antennae on its head and the snapping mandibles – mere inches from Despair's face. Its body was cast in an exoskeleton, bug-like limbs hanging down as a set of buzzing wings kept it hovering. The two pincers holding Despair to the wall by his sleeves – running through each arm – were also the frontal limbs.

_What in Oblivion are you!?_ Despair cursed inwardly as he beheld its revolting visage.

Ignoring the pain in his arms, Despair focused Magicka back to his hands and sparked electricity between his fingers. A flash of light illuminated the passage as Despair blasted Thunderbolt spells into each side of the creatures head and he felt himself become free of its hold. He didn't bother looking to aim as he retreated and fired two more blasts, hearing pained screeches as his spells hit their target.

'What…what was that?' He panted to himself, arms hanging loosely at his sides due to the wounds. A quick jolt of Restoration magic sealed the bloody holes shut and he conjured his signature Bound Scythe, waiting for the creature to attack again.

He jumped as he felt something touch his shoulder from behind, but calmed when he realized it was just Serana. 'What is that?' She asked. He had no answer.

A clicking noise brought both of their attentions back forward – Despair raising his weapon and Serana standing back, providing cover fire. The insect flew forward with startling speed – but Despair was faster, spinning the scythe and whacking the creature into the wall it the blunt end, pinning it there. 'Now, Serana!' He called, answered by a hail of ice into the creatures hide.

It screeched in pain and flailed, Despair shocked at how it was still alive – in spite of all the frozen spikes sticking out of it. With a grunt he pushed harder, a gratifying crunch as the shaft of his weapon broke its exoskeletal armour. With a dying shriek the insect spasmed, then went limp – its many arms and legs falling loose.

Serana rejoined his side as he kneeled down to observe the kill, trying to discern what it was. '…Now, can you tell us what you are…?' He mumbled as he pushed his fingers into the break in its husk, pulling a piece of the shell loose. He regarded the piece, suddenly rising and stepping away from the corpse – a shocked expression on his face.

'What is it?' Serana asked.

'C-Chaurus…' Despair stammered, slowly recomposing himself in the process. In response Serana simply smirked, holding back laughter. 'What's so amusing?' Despair asked in an impatient tone.

'Well, it seems that there _is_ something in Skyrim that can make the mighty Dragonborn feel fear just like the rest of us mortals.'

Despair deadpanned. 'I'm not _afraid_, just startled. The Chaurus were bad enough as poorly versatile insects, I'm not looking forward to fighting them now that they have wings.'

'_Sure_.' His companion quipped sarcastically, certain that his denial was the truth.

'Besides, there's only one thing I'm afraid of.'

'Oh?' Serana raised an eyebrow, Despair came up to her and took one of her hands – looking into her eyes.

'Losing you.' He squeezed her hand in his.

Her love-fueled lust began to return, but she managed to keep it at bay – thanking century's worth of controlling her blood-urges silently. With a smirk she responded; 'I thought it was saving the world first, romance later – or are you just an unconventional hero like that?'

Despair chuckled in return and began to walk again, leading them deeper into the cave. 'As long as I'm hero enough for you, I don't mind.'

They passed through the dark caves at speed – the rock walls dimly lit by odd fungal growths. The Falmers' blindness may have given them acute senses elsewhere, but against two skilled vampires – one of which was a part-time apocalypse-cancelling physical god – they were made short work of. In their wake were left the corpses of countless Falmer and a fair share of Chaurus husks – both of the flying variant and not.

Eventually at the end of a corridor they came across a pair of switches, both crafted out of Chaurus Chitin. Despair frowned as he looked at them.

'One of them is a trap.' Serana stated.

'Obviously.' Silence followed that exchange, until suddenly The Dragonborn perked up and raised one of his hands into the air. He flickered a dark ball of Conjuration energy into his hand and cast it, summoning one of his token Dremora Lord's.

'Pull both levers.' Despair commanded the Daedric warrior. Forced compliance followed and the creature gripped both levers in its large hands, and then pulled back.

A fall of rocks suddenly dropped onto the conjured creature – driving it back to Oblivion – and Despair and Serana jumped back, avoiding the boulders. When the commotion ended though, they discovered that a hidden doorway had opened and allowed passage through.

'You use them for everything, don't you?' Serana asked, remarking on Despair's command over the Dremora.

'Why wouldn't I?' He chuckled back. 'Would you have preferred it if I pulled those levers myself?' She didn't respond, but the answer was obvious to the both of them.

They quietly stepped passed the rockfall and into the new area, Serana suddenly stopping to admire it. 'Oh wow…' She murmured. Despair quietly agreed, seeing the cavern they had entered and paused to regard it. The structure and rock were of the same, black make as those of the passage before this point. However, several large pools of water filled the cavern at the bottom and were spanned by a series of long, thin bridges – made from the same stone. The light-generating fungi that had sparsely dotted the tunnels earlier was now in abundance, casting rays of light of all colours and chromes over the setting.

'I'm surprised the Falmer wouldn't live here…' Serana commented as she began to walk forward slowly.

Despair trailed behind her. 'They can't see, and the number of bridges would probably be a disadvantage to their blindness.' As he spoke he noticed several moving shapes in the distance. Focusing his eyes he discovered that they were actually animals – Deer's and Sabre Cat's, though with a different fur pallet than he remembered. 'There are sources of food here, if they cultivated the animals at least…'

'Gelebor said that they were mad though…'

'True, true…' Despair agreed, going quiet once more.

They walked through the structure slowly together, taking the time to admire it in full. Every once in a while they stopped to kill an attacking Vale Sabre Cat – Despair almost always cleaving it in half with his Bound Scythe before Serana could even get a hit in – much to her annoyance. Eventually though they passed through and could tell the end was near. Serana suddenly sprinted forth and left Despair behind, forcing the mage to catch up.

When he did, he found her standing at another ground-level Wayshrine, along with a smiling, robed Snow Elf.

'I am Prelate Sidanyis and this is the Wayshrine of Illumination. Do you wish to continue onwards on your path?'

Despair blinked in surprise as he beheld the Snow Elf – recalling that Gelebor had stated that only he and Vyrthur remained. He walked up – not noticing Sidanyis' dream-like expression as Serana had – and reached out. 'Wuah!' A gasp of surprise was let out as his hand passed through the figures ghostly chest and out the other side. He quickly reeled it back, finding that Serana was smirking playfully at him, giggling.

'Not funny…' Despair whispered to her, and then turned back to face the Prelate. 'Yes, could you activate the Wayshrine for us?'

With a smile Sidanyis turned and cast a ball of light on the submerged dome, causing the Wayshrine to rise and allow access. Despair walked in and filled the Ewer from the basin, storing it once it was done. Another portal opened up in one of the archways and The Dragonborn peered into it, observing the destination it presented.

'That's the right way.' Serana stated as she came side-on to her other. Before Despair could ask how she knew she said; 'I can just feel it. I guess it must be because I'm part of the prophecy.' She reached out and pushed her hand through the portal, letting the rest of her sink in. Before Despair followed he looked back to the Snow Elf shade – gave a nod of thanks, and passed through behind Serana.

'May the light of Auri-El guide you.'

_**Forgotten Vale.**_

Despair pushed himself back into the physical plane with a grunt, finding Serana waiting for him with a smile.

'Come on, let's keep moving.' She turned and grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Despair looked over her shoulder as she led, bringing them up a spiral stairway carved into the rock. Following that was a short tunnel, and then out into the open.

He almost winced in instinct as they came outside – only then remembering that he was wearing a mask. Serana drew up her hood over her face – accompanied by a quiet; 'Bloody hood' – from Despair. She giggled silently to herself, and then looked out at the new scenery.

The Forgotten Vale was huge and open, dotted randomly with trees around the landscape. A sheet of snow covered the ground, snow that was currently falling softly around them. Though the clouds covered the realm in a pale-white sky, Despair could still feel the sun's rays shining through them and was grateful for his hood.

'This is…beautiful.' Serana said, dumbfounded so quickly again after the last cavern in Darkfall Passage. Usually Despair's sarcasm would have shot her down, but he reminded himself that she was a stranger in a familiar land and wasn't as aware of Skyrim's natural splendor as he was. Of course, it was also due to the fact that she was simply _Serana_, or rather what she was to him.

'Agreed.' He said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. After a few seconds they simultaneously jumped back into action and started moving, looking for the next Wayshrine.

The first was at the top of a slope, to the right of where they had entered the Vale. They quickly filled the Ewer, gave their thanks to the Snow Elf shade standing by it and proceeded on. Soon they had to pass through a ravine between ice-encased rocks – and there they were descended upon by a pack of Frostbite Spider's.

Serana quickly dispatched the little ones while Despair charged ahead to eliminate the mother. It spat a wad a poisonous web at him, but he easily flipped over it – conjuring a pair of Bound Sword's in mid-air. Each blade was more like a long, flat cleaver – rectangular in shape and as long as his legs.

When he landed he immediately swung both blades in a swift arc, slicing the front limbs and first pair of legs off. The spider lunged at him, and he effortlessly blocked it by crossing his weapons over his face, holding the creature at bay. 'Now, now, no dinner for hungry monsters.' He goaded, twisting the blades in his hands and slicing down into the spiders face.

A shrill cry of pain tore at the sky as the Frostbite Spider reared back, it's blood splashing everywhere. Despair took the opportunity as it came – the underbelly of the spider presenting itself – and plunged both blades into it. A final scream was heard from the bigger beast until it went limp and collapsed. Despair stepped back from the corpse – the Bound Blade's disappearing as his hands left them – just as Serana caught up to him.

Silently congratulating each other for their success they carried on, searching for the next Wayshrine.

It took almost an hour for them to traverse and locate the other Wayshrines around the Vale, but eventually they managed it and were now heading up a flight of stone-carved, snow-covered steps. They rose up onto a grand plateau, the entire platform covered by a frozen lake of ice. Despair confidently stepped onto it and walked over, heading in the direction of their next target. Behind him Serana nervously followed, glancing down at the ice.

'Despair…the ice doesn't look very thick to me.' She called out.

'Serana, if there's one thing I've learned about ice and Skyrim, it's that it _never _melts or breaks.' He replied back, unwavering in his gait.

Suddenly a huge section of the frozen platform burst beneath him, sending him flying into the air along with several shards of debris. He crashed face-first into the ice a few metres away and groaned as he got to his feet. _Why does _everything_ I assume have to be immediately proven wrong?_ He was Dragonborn after all, fate shouldn't be altered against him – last he checked.

'Despair!' Serana called, prompting said person to turn around. He saw a great shape soaring in the sky above them, the creature that had caused the ice to break.

'Swimming dragons…that's new.' He cocked his head to the side, conjuring a pair of Dremora's as he did so.

'No one escapes!' They roared as they drew their equally gigantic black swords. Despair flickered his usual mix of Alteration armour and Lightning Cloak over himself before engaging the beast.

'**Joor! Zah! Frul!'**

He and Serana set to blasting the dragon with spells, crippling it. By the time Dragonrend had worked its magic their foe was already sporting several wounds. Its first order was to snap at one of the Dremora Lord's hammering into the side of its neck, bringing the black-armoured Daedra to its knees. Quickly after it flicked its long, reptilian neck and smashed the side of its head into Despair's summon, knocking it several metres away and eventually sending it back to Oblivion. When the dragon turned forward again to reassess its situation, it immediately regretted doing so.

'GRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOHHHHHH!' It roared up in pain as several cold spears of ice tore into its face, blinding both eyes.

'Serana!' Despair called, sprinting at her from behind as she was between him and the dragon.

Instantly she understood his motives and crouched down, cupping her hands together and presenting them. When he reached her he jumped and planted his foot into the hold she was making, both launching off and being pushed higher by their combined vampiric strength.

Grinning madly he reached the peak of his jump – several metres airborne over the dragon's head. He held out his hand and willed a weapon into them; the ethereal shaft of his Bound Scythe taking form. Like an executioner he lifted it over his head, and swung it down in unison with his own descent.

'It's over!' He shouted, but just before he cleaved into the reptilian hide another great, flying shape tackled him, soaring past Serana and the first dragon with Despair on its muzzle.

'A second one!?' She barely had time to register as it carried Despair off, as the first lunged its massive head at her. Luckily her reflexes kicked in and she raised her hands just in time, digging her claws into scale and flesh in her effort to hold the dragon at arm's length. However she neither possessed Despair's unnatural strength nor was in the Vampire Lord form and she began to buckle.

The stronger beast pushed hard and the heels of her boots began to dig into the ice. She grunted, but still failed to drive her opponent away. 'Gah!' She caved and her arms gave way to the horned snout, ramming her hard and knocking her several feet along the ice. When she stopped skidding she looked up, only to see a dangerous glow building in the dragon's open maw.

'Shit!' Serana acted instinctively and pounded her fists into the ice, breaking it and letting her fall through into the cold water. She slipped away just as a tower of flame roared overhead, certain to cook her if she was in it. Taking a short moment to regain her bearings, Serana began swimming away – hoping to be able to return to the surface far away enough that she could continue the fight.

However, she had barely gotten a few metres when the large, snake-like head of her enemy inserted itself into the hole she had created and regarded her. The dragon glared – halfway down to its neck in the water – and opened its jaws for another breath attack.

Serana kept swimming away, but couldn't help but think; _Wouldn't fire be useless underwater?_ How tragic that she rebuked that notion almost immediately.

The monster breathed and a torrent of white bubbles shot out, enveloping the vampire. Instantly she opened her mouth in shock and pain, letting some of the discharge enter her throat. The bubbles were as heated as coals in Sovngarde's forges and she screamed out silently. Though it didn't sear her like flame, her skin had gone bright red under the heat. For several seconds she writhed helplessly in agony, certain that she wouldn't survive another second.

Suddenly it stopped and despite the lingering pain she managed to open her eyes. Serana looked up as the dragon froze abruptly, followed by the sharp cracking of ice as it dug its claws into it. Then without warning it was suddenly pulled away, leaving the hole empty. The cool waters she was submerged in quickly negated Serana's pain and she swam up to return to the surface. Breaking the water, she bobbed up and down for a bit – actually liking the ice-cold temperature of the lake – then gasped at what she saw.

Two dragons – the one that she had been fighting and the one that had carried Despair off – currently lay in a heap of flesh and leaking wounds several tens of metres away. Suddenly one of them was pulled away by the tail and swung around, brought crashing into the other. Whatever had done it hadn't let go of the tail and threw the beast – the hulking mass skidding across the ice all the way to the other end of the lake.

Serana clambered back onto the ice, awe-struck. No matter how many times she'd seen it she'd always been impressed by Despair when he got serious. Guised in the darkness of the Vampire Lord, he now sat atop the motionless second dragon, grabbing the base of each wing in each hand.

Then tore them off.

'GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!' The screech that emanated from the crippled creature was loud enough to shatter the ice around it. The cracks were massive, webbing out even past Serana's feet – though being smaller by the time they reached her. Promptly, the ice beneath the dragon and Despair collapsed, dropping both into the cold waters.

Despair's black wings spread and lifted him away before he fell, leaving the great, maimed body of his foe to fall alone. The wave generated was huge, drenching both the airborne Despair and Serana. For a moment it was quiet, but then suddenly the top half of the dragon shot out of the water – lunging at its maimer. Before it could reach The Dragonborn however, it fell back down – becoming a writhing mass that was struggling to stay afloat. Without its wings the dragon could only do so much in the water as it flailed helplessly, eventually slipping beneath the waves and away from our protagonists, unable to continue the fight.

'That's one…' Despair mumbled, floating down to the ground – joining Serana. As soon as he touched down the Vampire Lord disappeared, replaced with Despair's normal form. The extra mass of the transformation faded away and black smoke. '…And now for you.' He glanced off into the distance, eyeing the stirring form of the dragon at the other end of the lake.

It snarled at him, arranging itself upright and shaking its pained wings out. Despair noted how it shifted into a new pose, like a Sabre Cat about to lunge. The Dragonborn couldn't help but chuckle in anticipation. He made his mind up with how he was going to kill this one.

'Serana…' He began to say without turning to the woman behind him – she still was still wet from taking a dip, her clothes sticking to her form in detail. 'Do you mind stepping back a bit?'

She was hesitant at first but complied, her boots tapping quietly on the ice as she retreated to a safe distance. Despair thanked her, and then refocused on the dragon – which spread its wings and roared in intimidation.

'Now then…' He shifted his right foot forward, planting it into the ice. Then he lowered his torso down a little, adopting an odd stance reminiscent of The Blades in their glory days. He then brought both hands to his left hip and curled his fingers, as if holding something.

'Bound Katana.' He said in a flat tone. Instantly the weapon materialized in his hands, sheath and all. The blade was tucked away in its casing, which was held by Despair left. His right hand gripped hard onto the hilt of the weapon – and he slowly stopped moving, becoming a tranquil statue.

Serana regarded him with confusion, unsure of his intent. Her attention was caught then by the dragon, which had risen into the air. Oddly, it hovered but a few feet above the ice – opting to charge airborne rather than simply fly. She flinched when it started moving, her eyes barely able to keep up with the great blur. Even from the distance she and Despair were at she could hear the winds themselves scream as it sped, charging right at Despair.

She looked back at him, then at the dragon, then him again. He seemed lost in his own private world and she debated shouting out to warn him. However before she could decide the dragon had closed in on Despair, literally seconds from ramming into him.

Then suddenly – in a bright flash of light – he drew his sword and sliced a single diagonal arc into the space before him. Even the afterimages of the blade were barely visible. There was no sound of metal scraping the sheath as the sword left it, nor steel carving through flesh – as there was none in the scene. Instead a mighty **CRACK!** was heard, reverberating through time and space itself. Serana had to avert her eyes due to the sheer force of the swing, and when she looked back her mouth hung agape in shock.

Before her she saw Despair – his sword-arm still outstretched holding the Bound Katana. He was perfectly still, though she caught steam rising from his mouth as he panted heavily. Behind him was the dragon, or more accurately; the two halves of it.

'Oh Daedra…' She whispered, her hands covering her mouth in shock.

With a single sword stroke, Despair had sliced the dragon in half – end to end. It was a perfectly clean cut, you could have run a hand over the wound and it'd be like rubbing a wall. The limbs and wings were still twitching slightly, and Serana couldn't help but quiver as she felt as though the corpse was looking directly at her.

She looked as something twitched in the corner of her eye, the dark shape turning out to simply be Despair sheathing his weapon and turning to her. As he approached her he dropped his tool – the conjured weapon disappearing before it hit the ground.

'Come on, we've still got that Snow Elf to slay.' Despair slipped his hand into hers and pulled her along, the familiar glow of absorbing a dragon's soul shining from him for a few seconds.

'B-but…you…it…' Serana tried to make sense of words, Despair simply responded with an arrogant chuckle.

'Yeah, all in a day's work…'

_**The final Wayshrines, a couple of caves and many, many, many Falmer.**_

'So…this is the Chantry.' Despair commented, observing the structure.

It resembled a large cathedral, a grand bridge spanning a ravine between them and the structure. The two vampires crossed it unopposed, entering a courtyard containing two curling stairways up to the main doors and a great statue of Auri-El between them, with the stairs leading behind it to the door. The figure was richly garbed, bearing elegant armour and a crown, whilst holding up a representation of the sun. They admired it together for a little before carrying on, ascending the stairs and rising to the main entrance.

'How do we get in?' Serana asked as they approached the door, finding several ornate locks over it. At the centre was a circular sun carving, overlapping both sides. She turned to Despair, who shrugged, Serana sighed in response. They started searching for the way to open the lock, when Despair found something.

'This?' Despair motioned to an altar a few metres from the statue behind them, the stand it rested upon ending into several grooves in the ground that led to the door.

Serana glanced at it. 'Possibly, try putting the Ewer on top.' She suggested.

Despair did as she said, placing the now full Ewer onto the altar. Instantly something clicked and the duo stepped back, unsure of what was happening.

'Look!' Serana pointed, directing Despair's attention. As he searched, he saw the water from the Ewer sliding into the grooves on the altar, then travelling down to the door. When the clear fluid filled the cracks completely, the locks over the door began to move away, followed by the sun-carving at the centre spinning.

The doors clicked open, granting the vampires access to the inside. Serana led with Despair closely behind her and she pushed the doors open, entering the first chamber of the sanctuary. Immediately however they were faced with hundreds of Falmer, and Serana jumped back into Despair's chest.

'Hey, don't worry.' He calmed her – she hadn't quite yet built up the psychological immunity to the hideous creatures and experiences so far had spooked her enough that she would outright fear them. 'They're frozen.'

At a second glance she realized that his observation was true and she gradually went further into the hall. Despair closed the door behind them and strode up to her side, passing several of the frozen Falmer. He could tell that their prize was further in the structure, but that didn't stop him from messing around a little.

'Hey. Hey Serana.' The Dragonborn called in a child-like voice, prompting his ward to turn to him. 'Look what I'm doing.'

'Despair…' She sighed in annoyance. Crossing her arms, she watched him poke one of the ice-bound Falmer repeatedly in the face. He giggled idiotically with each prod, pushing his finger deeper each time.

'You guys are really irritating you know?' He asked the inanimate creature. 'You and your fuckin' Chaurus pets – and since when can they fly?'

Suddenly the Falmer broke out of its icy prison in a blast of small shards. Serana flinched, but Despair simply stopped poking the creature and clutched its head in his hand. His fingers curled around the cranium and he straightened his arm, holding it at length. Its shorter arms flailed wildly in an attempt to claw at him, only swiping at air.

'So, you wake up if I poke you enough. That's a bother.' Despair commented nonchalantly. The Falmer hissed at him, but he suddenly tightened his grip and began to dig his pointed fingers into its skull. He took a somber second to regard it between his fingers before applying true force.

'Good bye.'

The Dragonborn clenched his fingers and created a fist on the Falmer's head, crushing it completely. Instead of blood though, there was a fine icy dust as an aftermath. The rest of the body fell and Despair retracted his arm, returning to Serana.

'How long do you think they've been frozen?' The female asked after seeing that even their innards were ice.

Despair grunted in response, signaling his lack of an answer. He took a few more moments to look around the room at frozen Falmer, before leading the pair through an archway at the back and into a corridor. They twisted and winded through a series of elegantly carved hallways and collapsed-in ice walls until finally coming to a final chamber – where the Arch-Curate should be.

Instantly Despair's eyes fixed onto a lone figure reclining at the other end of the room on an elevated throne, his head lazily leaning on his fist. He immediately snarled inwardly and took a step forward – breaking the ice under his boot – when a hand grabbed his arm from behind to stop him.

'Wait…it might be a trap.' Serana whispered into his ear, eyeing the figure with an equal amount of disdain.

'I can assure you, there is no such thing here my dear!' The man announced, somehow hearing the exchange from that far away. Despair and Serana tensed up and the pale man at the other end smirked. He extended his other hand and raised his chin in acknowledgment.

'Vyrthur.' Despair stated, taking a few steps to the centre of the room to get a little closer.

Arch-Curate Vyrthur – the Elf that Gelebor had requested them to kill – was the splitting image of his brother. However, Vyrthur's features seemed…different. They were sharper and wrought with more cruelty.

'Well noticed, did Gelebor send you here?' He asked in a haughty tone, not recognizing Despair. However his gaze seemed to be drawn to the follower behind The Dragonborn. 'Ah, Serana. I've been waiting so long to see you; you've kept me waiting for quite some time.' A smile rose on his face, one which unnerved the she-vampire.

'How…how do you know of me?' She asked – part nervous and part aggressive.

'Oh where to begin!?' Vyrthur tilted his head back and laughed, highly amused by her. 'Perhaps I should start with the circumstances of The Betrayed…'

Despair scowled, speaking and taking Vyrthur's attention. 'Hardly, I have no interest in hearing your sop story – Gelebor already told us that they corrupted you.'

Vyrthur's mock-joy turned to scorn as he regarded Despair. 'And who are you to talk down to me? Do you know who I am, boy!?'

'Do you?' Despair responded flatly, aggravating the Snow Elf further. 'Give us the bow Vyrthur; we might even leave you in one piece if you do it nicely.'

'There's no chance for that I'm afraid, I have my own requirements for it and now that you've brought your fetching companion to me – I can finally complete the prophecy.' Vyrthur grinned madly as he spoke and Serana flinched, a small spark of understanding the meaning of the words – but she pushed it aside for now.

'Fine then.' Despair raised his hand and conjured a Bound Scythe. 'We'll take it from your corpse.'

The Snow Elf's rage peaked. 'Enough!' He shouted out, almost jumping off his throne. 'I'll leave you to The Betrayed; let's see how long you last!'

Suddenly the room filled with the sound of ice breaking and several small shards went flying out of the walls. Despair and Serana turned and saw several frozen Falmer approach from the hidden recesses of the pillars, snarling and bearing clawed hands as weapons. Both of them sighed almost in indifference as they prepared to engage the minions, Despair calling upon his trusty pair of Dremora Lord's for aid.

Serana had already started blasting the enemies with crackling electrical attacks, assisted by Despair's Dremora. The Dragonborn himself was about to join the melee, but then he felt the floor shake from behind and turned around.

A towering Frost Atronach – far grander than any he had seen prior – lumbered towards him. It was at least twice his height and the tremoring floor was any indication, several times heavier.

'How fun.' He deadpanned.

It swung a massive arm at him which he easily ducked under and he responded by swinging his scythe into its leg. To his displeasure the crescent blade barely cut through and when he tried to pull it out he found that it was trapped. A throaty roar brought his attention up and the Atronach brought its bludgeoning hands down on him – forcing Despair to let go of his weapon and jump away.

He landed several feet to the side, already having conjured a Bound Bow and Bound Spear in his left and right hands respectively. The titan turned towards him just as he nocked the polearm into his bowstring. Carefully he aimed at its head, slightly lower than perfect alignment due to the natural arc of projectiles.

'Eat this.' He fired the spear from his bow, the bladed tip of it punching through the golem to halfway down the shaft. The giant staggered a step back, but quickly recomposed and advanced towards its target. Despair fired a second spear from the bow, impaling his foe right through the chest – then a third through its knee. The Frost Atronach fell before Despair, holding itself up on three limbs. Unable to fight back, Despair regarded his opponent before discarding his bound weapons and replacing them with a new one.

'Bound Katana.'

In the next instant he sliced through the entity, from hip to shoulder and cleaving it in two. With that done he acknowledged Serana's completion of eradicating the mooks. They both glared triumphantly at Vyrthur, who responded by crushing the arm of his throne with his fist.

'Petulant brats!' He raised his hands and conjured light into them, roaring with energy.

_That's…_Despair thought as he watched the display. _Incredibly strong magic…what is he trying to do?_

Suddenly great cracks echoed down from above, followed by several slabs of stone debris falling into the chamber.

'Careful! He's trying to bring the ceiling down!' Serana warned. At that moment another wave of frozen Falmer attacked the duo, accompanied by a score of frozen Chaurus. Despair quietly thanked whatever cosmic entity that none of them were of the flying variant.

With their powers they fought off the swarm, dodging the ceiling debris as they did. Despair's Dremora were unstoppable against the frail ice-carved Falmer, which was to say nothing of their master and his other. Like a whirlwind Despair tore through the horde, only matched in ferocity by Serana's vicious Destruction magic. Vyrthur's face contorted as he watched his underlings so easily dispatched and his patience snapped like a tether pulled too far.

'ENOUGH!' He shouted out, clapping his light-bearing hands together. The force of the shockwave knocked Despair to his knees and Serana off her feet – dispelling the Dremora at the same time. The Dragonborn frowned as he tried to get to his feet amidst the shaking world, but the loud sound of something breaking above took his attention. As he realized what was coming only one thought filled his mind.

_Serana!_

Instinctively he dived over her, protecting her from the falling threat – the majority of the ceiling that hadn't collapsed yet. A world of weight descended upon him as penance for his troubles, sending him again into his own familiar darkness.

* * *

Ending it there. Next chapter will probably be Despair/Serana vs. Vyrthur and Despair vs. Harkon - as if I needed to tell you. Thanks for all the support you guys have given and here's to the success of this fic!

Also, the Dawnguard questline is coming to a close, so what do you want me to do next - as I've mentioned that I intend to have this fic essentially run until the end of time - like Skyrim itself. If I don't get any/promising suggestions - and if you do send some in be detailed - I'm just going to carry on to the Dragonborn questline...after I spend a chapter post-Harkon cementing Despair and Serana's relationship and adding some lemons to this fic, I did promise lemons after all.

For the "Bound Katana" weapon, it's basically just a bound variant of Blades Swords from in-game, but "Bound Blades Sword" is a bit too much of a mouthful.

Regarding the bit where Despair slices the dragon in half from end-to-end...I've...been playing a lot of Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance recently...

Hope you enjoyed, leave a review - bye!


	10. Hannibal

I do not own the Elder Scrolls nor anything affiliated with it.

* * *

_'Wake up.'_

…_What?_

'_Wake up!'_

Despair blinked within his own subconscious; surrounded by the darkness he called his own. The voice repeated itself, becoming more frantic with each recital. He willed himself upright – as there was no metaphysical ground to stand upon this far in his mind – and floated like a Dragon Priest.

_Alduin?_ He thought out, only to receive no response. Then the voice called out again and Despair now acknowledged the difference between it and the world-swallowing texture of Alduin's speech.

'_Despair!?'_

His mind ticked suddenly. 'S-Serana…?' No response came to this call either, but a small light abruptly glimmered into existence at the edge of his vision. He focused on it – like a lone star in the night sky – then willed himself towards it. At first his body would not move – muscles stiff, but he forcibly enslaved his limbs and commanded them.

Though as he slowly began to inch forward, the light suddenly burst open and blinded him in its glare. 'Gah!' He flinched back and raised his arms over his eyes, shielding them. For several seconds he held there, but discovered that the intensity of the illumination wouldn't subside and decided to risk lowering his hands.

Strangely, the radiance didn't feel harsh to him – not even slightly uncomfortable as it had since becoming a child of the night.

'_Despair!?'_

Serana called out to him again, from the centre of the light. With a sardonic chuckle and a spark rising within his unbeating heart he forced himself towards that centre – and back to Mundus.

_**Auri-El's Chapel, recently renovated.**_

With a grunt Despair pushed a particularly large slab of roof off of his body – freeing himself for the most part. Immediately he felt the pain stack up – largely the bruising he had taken from bearing the falling ceiling. He reached his right arm out across the floor and clawed into it – using that to pull himself out from the rest of the rubble. A cloud of dust obscured him when he freed his legs of the debris, but quickly settled and greyed his clothing.

'Cough, cough…' He weakly spat out and flopped down onto the ground, limp and tired. He would have gone to sleep there and then if not for a certain interference.

'Despair!' Serana called – untouched by the ruins or the dust. She remembered being violently pushed to the side before the ceiling hit the ground, then being unable to find her other afterwards. She ran over to him and slid into a kneel beside his prone form. He wasn't moving at all and tears began to well in her eyes.

Her first instinct was to check his pulse, but as she curled his fingers around his wrist she realized; _How stupid of me, vampires don't have pulses!_

She then reached around his torso and turned him over so that he was on his back. At first she simply put her hands on his chest and shook him, trying to wake him up. When that failed her lip quivered and a near-silent; 'N-no…' sounded.

Then an idea gripped her. A childish, fairy-tale idea that would be quite at home in the mind of a princess. With her left hand she trailed upwards to the jawline of his mask and clutched the visage of Morokei that meant nothing to her but Despair. _Her _Despair. She started to pull up, loosening the mask from his face – but suddenly a hand shot up to catch her forearm.

Wrought in Dragonscales, Despair's left hand steadily pulled Serana's limb away and off his mask – leaving it on. Even though he was covered, she could tell that he was grinning and looking at her.

'Not quite yet.' He reassured, unable to help but tease her.

The water in her eyes shimmered for a moment before she pulled him into a tight hug, lifting his torso off the ground. After a second of confusion he simply smiled and wrapped his arms back around her – letting them share the moment together.

'You…idiot…'

She closed her eyes and hummed happily, until they were rudely interrupted.

'How touching! I suppose you'd like me to wed you too!?' Both Serana and Despair jerked their heads in the direction of the voice, and saw Vyrthur standing arrogantly on the platform where his throne used to be. The sky and sun shone down at the lovers, through the blown-open wall from Vyrthur's most recent act of magic.

As both the vampires rose to their feet, Despair couldn't help look at Serana and say; 'We are in a chapel after all.' If she acknowledged the joke she didn't let on.

'Enough of this Vyrthur; give us the bow! Or do we have to kill you for it?' Serana declared, taking the stance of a proud vampire princess.

'…Didn't we already decide we were going to kill him…?' Despair whispered over to her.

The Arch-Curate scoffed back at them and turned, fleeing to the balcony behind him. The hunters quickly gave chase to their prey. When they entered the balcony they saw that it rose to a second platform – two stairways on either side leading up to it. In the centre was another Wayshrine, though this one lacked a bowel at the centre – instead possessing an empty altar.

They ignored it and cornered Vyrthur on the second platform for both sides. Oddly, the Snow Elf was hunching over and panting – completely different from when inside he had been composed and radiating power. Despair couldn't help notice the way he bent under the sun's rays – but pushed it aside.

'Give up Vyrthur; or do you really think you can beat the two of us without your horde of Falmer?' Serana snarled at him, readying magic in both hands.

'How dare you! I was Arch-Curate of Auri-El – I had the ears of a God, until He turned his back on me!'

She rolled her eyes. 'Yes we know this sad story, that you were corrupted by The Betrayed and-'

'Gelebor and his kind are easily manipulated fools.' Vyrthur cut her off. 'Look into my eyes Serana, you tell me what I am.' At those words he forced himself to straighten up, giving the girl a better look into his globes.

She took only a second but on the other side of Vyrthur; Despair was quicker on the uptake. 'A vampire.' He answered flatly.

Vyrthur turned to scorn at Despair – both annoyed and amused that Serana's unremarkable companion had answered first. He _still _had no idea who this masked, robed character was.

'Well done, _boy_. I am indeed just as you both are – a vampire.' Despair almost throttled Vyrthur at the name-call, but held back. 'One of my own initiates turned me into what I am – but despite all my years of service Auri-El immediately turned his back on me.'

The white-skinned Elf turned back to Serana, taking pleasure in her shocked expression. 'So I decided to get revenge, no matter the cost. It wasn't like I had a time limit after all.'

'You decided to get revenge…on a God?' Serana's eyebrow rose quizzically.

Again, Vyrthur scoffed. 'Auri-El himself was beyond my reach, but his influence on our world was not. I already had the bow; all I needed was the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour.' Serana paled at the last set of words, shock flashing all over her face.

'Daughter of…' Despair took a moment to repeat Vyrthur's words, still unfamiliar with what the full term entailed.

'You…you created that prophecy…The prophecy that made my father mad!' She was torn between horror and rage, freezing under the realization.

'What of it? That's hardly my concern.' The Elf suddenly broke into a leer and reached out to Serana, his fingers brushing lighting through her hair. 'So Serana, won't you give me a bit of your blood?'

Despair was about to lunge and snap the Elf's neck without a second thought – outrage buildings alongside his possessive nature. However, Serana beat him to it and her face turned from shock to a vicious display of wrath – contorting in a way that was both beautiful and terrifying. Her hands moved like lightning around his throat and her claws curled around.

'I'm afraid I'm fairly attached to my blood, _Vyrthur_.' With hardly a show of effort she lifted him off the ground, leaving his legs to dangle helplessly. 'Besides, not all of it is mine to give.' She squeezed tighter, prompting a strangled gasp from her victim. 'Let's see if yours has any potency to it, shall we?'

Despair saw her shoulders tense as she prepared to simply push down and crush Vyrthur's neck absolutely in a "clap". But just before she could do it the Arch-Curate kicked off her stomach and floated away into the air, snarling and summoning lights in his palms.

'Enough! This time, to the death!'

The lights exploded and blinded the two vampires for a second. When they could see again Vyrthur was brandishing a bone-white sword that curved at the end and his entire left forearm was cloaked in Ice Destruction magic.

Despair was the first to attack, conjuring his Bound Katana and swinging diagonally. Vyrthur easily held it at bay with his own sword but the Arch-mage simply drew his weapon back and stabbed it forward – though the Snow Elf tilted his head to the side and dodged it. Then Despair suddenly burst into a vicious flurry of slashing strikes, forcing Vyrthur to retreat a step back.

Just as the Arch-Curate readied his powerful Ice magic to strike back at Despair, a snarl from his left took his attention. Serana fired several missiles of Ice Spike at the Elf and Vyrthur had to cast a strong Ward, breaking his concentration for the first spell.

'Gah! You mortal's never learn!' He parried another blow from Despair's blade and knocked Serana off her feet with a blast of magic. Vyrthur then danced around The Dragonborn and sliced into his leg, bringing Despair to his knees.

_Perhaps…but if that's true – then you know nothing at all!_ **'Tiid! Klo! Ul!'**

The executioners' swing that Vyrthur was halfway through slowed with the march of time, losing all fatality. Calmly, Despair healed his wounds with Restoration and stood up. He then went over and with an extended hand he helped Serana back to her feet – earning a sarcastic chuckle from her as he did.

'Shall we?' Even in the midst of battle they were casual – after all, time had slowed to their whim. She didn't need to answer for him to know.

Time resumed and Vyrthur's blade bounced off the floor. A short gasp of surprise emitted from him when he saw that Despair was not there – headless as he expected. Quickly however he became aware of the duo before him and bared his arms. Vyrthur closed his left-hand fingers around shimmering air – as if he was casting a Ward but holding it like a shield.

Serana and Despair then flung their arms out, splaying their fingers like an octopus about to strangle its victim. The vampiric Arch-Curate was about to charge and strike them down, but then his enemies discharged electricity from their palms. He was forced to hold up his Shield-Ward and keep his ground.

However as he realized just how strong the Destruction magic that he was receiving was, he found even that difficult to manage.

With a grunt he dug his heels into the ground, cracking it. 'Damn you! Damn you and damn Auri-El!' Vythur's rage built up again and he focused as much magic as he could into his Ward while pushing back. Little by little he edged forward; each step exhausted his Magicka pool and forced him to wait until it regenerated. Still, he was making progress. All the while he glared intently at them, their forms seemed to shimmer and flicker – probably an onset of looking through a Ward and the amount of magic they were generating. Probably.

_Now!_ His thoughts screamed out and forced his body to act. Like a flash he lowered his shield and simultaneously slashed forward, cleaving his blade through both adversaries. Their forms swayed and toppled – barely held together by the solely untouched spinal cords – and hit the ground soundlessly. Vyrthur reveled in his victory, but his celebration was short-lived and premature – like a stillborn baby.

The two corpses suddenly exploded into a cloud of shrieking, black bats. They swarmed around the pale Elf, forcing him to keep his arms up and shield his eyes. 'What!? What sorcery is this!?'

He suddenly felt a piercing sensation in his sword-arm, coming from behind. The cloud of bats disappeared accordingly as he turned, revealing the two other, very much alive, vampires. Despair's right arm was outstretch, fingers wrapped around a chain that started in his left hand. Serana had her arms around his right. At the end of the chain – long and of violet ethereal – was a pointed spear-tip, embedded in Vyrthur's arm.

'I have a good friend in Winterhold who believed that Illusion is truly the least respected school of magic. When one gets as good as I, they may as well warp reality itself.' The smirk was seen from behind Morokei, but one could hear it clear as anything in Despair's voice.

'No…' Vyrthur growled bestially.

'Now, let's see if we can't do something about that pesky sword arm.' He suddenly pulled, jerking Vyrthur along. The Snow Elf pushed down into the ground, crunching his soles into it. Despair tightened his grip around the chain and pulled again, this time with Serana's aiding strength. Vyrthur fell forward and was pulled through the air. With his left hand Despair caught Vyrthur's collar, raveling the rest of the chain around the Elf's captured right arm.

'**Fus…! Ro! Dah!'**

The force – unrelenting – blasted into Vyrthur's helpless form and shot him away. He tumbled across the balcony and crashed hard into the far rails. They didn't break though, and slowly the Arch-Curate rose to his feet – now the majority of his limbs.

Arrogantly, The Dragonborn held the dismembered right arm of his foe aloft. It dripped blood steadily and looked cleanly ripped – right out of flesh and socket. At the same time that the dead fingers dropped the sword and it clattered to the ground, Vyrthur let out an anguished howl that echoed into the Vale below.

'How dare you! Who do you think you are!?' He screeched, clutching the bleeding stump harshly, fingers digging into the exposed flesh.

Almost innocently, Despair cocked his head. 'Me?' He asked with the child-like tone of a toddler. He suddenly exploded into a swarm of bats – utilizing Blood Magic – and appeared again in front of Vyrthur. With his left hand he flickered a ball of flame into his palm, using his right to clutch Vyrthur by the collar again.

'You're bleeding.' He observed in a quiet monotone. 'Let me patch you up.' Harkon's chosen – and Serana's, in a different way – then held his left hand up to Vyrthur's shoulder-stump and let loose a weak stream of fire. It burned over the bleeding wound and clutching fingers of Despair's victim and Vyrthur's screams rose higher than the roaring flames.

'_Stop_! End this now!' His commanding tone had reduced to crying pleas. The flames that seared his unarmed right licked at his face and chest, savouring the taste. '_Please_!'

'_Silence_!' Despair roared like a shockwave, suddenly shouting. 'You wanted to put out the sun and take revenge on a deity, but you can't handle playing with a little fire!?' He stopped the burning torrent and instead gripped that same scorched, open wound – possessing no delicacy in the act. Like a ragdoll, Despair tossed his target of rage away. Vyrthur crashed hard into one of the inner chambers walls, returning the fight inside. It didn't last long though – as another cast of the Bound Chain pulled Vyrthur right back out.

'You want blood Vyrthur!? How about your own!?' As the pale Elf hurled over – pulled on the chain – Despair conjured his Bound Scythe. The long, crescent blade and Vyrthur's soft belly met mid-swing, eyes bulging out from impact. The curved edge gorily cleaved the Elf in two and both halves splattered loudly against the ground. His legs kept going – sliding in their own crimson ichor – and tumbled off the edge of the balcony, forever lost.

The top half though crawled desperately away. With only one arm and no legs Vyrthur managed an impressive two feet of distance before Despair reached him. As the scythe blade slid under his throat between it and the ground the Snow Elf was forced to raise his head, until his cranium met Despair's boot.

'Remember my name…as you become a memory.'

Vyrthur's eyes widened in fear. Too petrified to even scream, he fish-gasped his last words before The Dragonborn's guillotine rose.

'Despair.'

…

Serana watched the proceedings in mixed horror and satisfaction. Despair's ferocity was not quite new to her – even this extremity could be justified with his possessiveness to her and how Vyrthur had wronged her, but she was still mortified to see it. Even Volkihar's Court would have been horrified by Despair's capacity for cruelty.

At the same time it could be easily said that she was content. Now that the adrenaline was gone she was holding up surprisingly well despite having just realized that someone was directly responsible for her family tearing apart – much less meeting that man.

When her brain kicked back into gear, her first instinct was to see Despair and console him – Talos knows what state of mind he was in. Her surprise was voiced with a yelp when strangely it was he who turned and asked if she was alright. It took her a moment to catch up to his meaning.

'I…I think so. I guess I should be more…shocked? Being several centuries at least old desensitizes you.' She was slightly flustered, still red from the fight. When they reached each other he pulled her into a tight hug, comforting her with his touch.

'Are you sure?' He whispered, no voice lost to the mask.

She replied with a nod, burying her nose into his shoulder. When they pulled apart they smiled upon one-another, but were rudely interrupted by the sound of a strangled gasp.

They turned to the torn-open interior and saw a tall, pale figure, clad in ivory armour. Knight-Paladin Gelebor staggered past the pair open-mouthed, staring at the corpse of his brother – or at least the biggest piece – in shock. Gelebor's eyes jumped several times from the strewn limbs of Vyrthur before settling sentimentally closing them over his brother's decapitated head. When he reopened the lids they rested on Despair and Serana, both standing passively but ready for another fight. Just in case.

'No…' The Snow Elf said in a defeated manner, raising his palm peacefully. 'You did what you had to, I asked you to do it anyway. I would have preferred that he remain in one piece, but we can't all have what we want.'

Despair poorly stifled a chuckle and shrugged. 'Sorry Gelebor.'

The Elf sighed sadly and looked down. 'There were so many of The Betrayed…it's no wonder he was overpowered.'

Serana suddenly twitched and stepped forward. 'It wasn't The Betrayed!' She exclaimed. Gelebor gave her a puzzled look and hence she began to explain. When the exposition was done he had a crestfallen but enlightened look on his face.

'A vampire you say…I see, I understand now.' He gave a forlorn stare to the ground in the memory of his brother, when suddenly he jolted up with a strange expression on his face. Despair and Serana visibly flinched as his features conformed to something that looked so unfamiliar on the visage of the Snow Elf, an emotion that hadn't been seen for centuries. They summarized it when he spoke, giving taste to the texture.

'That means there's hope for The Betrayed!'

They summarized it as joy.

The pair looked queerly at Gelebor before coming to the same conclusion, mulling it over internally. Serana couldn't help but break into a smile when she confirmed the possibility for hope in her own mind. Despair gave a low chuckle.

'But, that is my concern, not yours.' Gelebor turned to face the balcony Wayshrine and raised his hands, as if calling to something. A bright light glowed and forced the vampires to avert their gaze, but when they looked back they gasped in awe. Within the Wayshrine – floating above the basin-less altar – was the most beautifully crafted creation that ever existed. Serana stood in wonder while Despair slowly waded up to take his prize.

With his Dragonscale-armoured left hand he reached out and pulled the radiant weapon from its suspension – a twinge of guilt running through him simultaneously. It felt like stealing directly from a god, even if he himself was an avatar of sorts for another deity.

His fingers curled around Auriel's Bow and he felt its power, burn through him like a sun in his palm. His vampiric biology winced to handle such a weapon; it went completely against his affinity to blood and shadow to do so. Nevertheless, after admiring it he slid the bowstring over his shoulder and equipped it. With that he turned to Serana and smirked.

'Come on, don't we have a monster to slay?'

_**Castle Volkihar.**_

Despair and Serana both looked steely up the bridge. He had changed on the way over, donning his right-hand Dragonscale gauntlet and a modified chestpiece that fitted under his Arch-mage Robes. In accordance to that he had draped over his shoulders; a twin-tailed, worn cloak of black – drawn from the same cloth as the infamous Dragon Priests themselves.

'Are you sure you're ready for this?' Despair asked one last time, concerned for his lover's sake.

'Y-yeah…' She looked down before meeting his gaze. 'I suppose my father died a long time ago. It would be naïve to hope that we could be a family again. Not after Vyrthur…'

He consoled her. 'Shh…don't think about that.'

After a few more moments they started heading up, but they'd only gotten halfway when a figure began running at them. Despair quickly recognized the pale, Dunmer pallour of Garan, his robes flapping in the icy winds.

_My favourite._ He thought sarcastically. Alduin chuckled within.

When he reached them he was out of breath, almost certainly from a contained excitement rather than the physical strain of running. Though – based on how much Volkihar's court seemed to lounge around – you never know. He smiled excitedly at the twosome before speaking.

'Lady Serana, Despair-!'

'_Lord_ Despair.'

'It's fortunate that you arrive at such an hour, for our glorious Lord Harkon has revived!'

The rest of Garan's words were deafened from that point on. Despair and Serana paled and turned to one another, almost communing telepathically. They had initially agreed to kill Harkon as he slept, but now a spanner had been thrown into the works. Within barely any time at all they had already agreed silently on what they were going to do. Awake or not, they were going to kill Harkon.

Fortunately, this took just long enough for Garan to finish talking.

'Do hurry. I'm going ahead to tell Lord Harkon of your arrival.' He ran back to the castle, grinning and leaving Despair and Serana.

'Damn.' Despair said flatly after a silence. He entwined his fingers with Serana's, who was shaking. He turned over and asked; 'Are you alright?'

She breathed. 'I was…ready to kill him. At least he would be asleep…but now…' Trailing off, she was quickly brought into Despair's embrace. He was about to comfort her again, but she was quicker. 'It's fine…I won't let him live. Nothing has changed…'

But it had, even if only marginally.

Silently, Despair escorted her forward and they entered the castle. Their entry was greeted with vicious smiles of congratulations. Even to the two of them – one a dragon bound in mortal flesh and the other their lieges' sole inheritance – Despair and Serana were seriously unnerved by the leering vampires. The court almost convened around them, creating a one-way hallway and forced them onwards. They looked hungry.

However the pair quickly reached the antechamber to where Harkon was waiting. Despair had never been inside, but Serana told him hastily that it was almost the unwritten heart of the keep. Liberated in solitude, they turned to one another to prelude battle. Whether they were conscious of it or not, emotion had begun to weave around them. Of multiple natures was the metaphysical wrappings, but one rose above others.

'Despair…' She looked upon him, maintaining the close proximity. He calmly waited for her to continue, and they slowly edged themselves so that the wall was at her back.

'I know he's my father, but of the two of you…I would choose you.'

Despair couldn't resist. 'In his defense, he didn't set the bar very high…' This earned him a light push.

'I'm serious. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you, him…' It didn't need to be spoken to be understood.

'And I, Serana.' He voiced his reciprocation, plainly and bluntly. They moved closer and his hands moved up to her face, his fingers trickled upon her jawline. In turn she slid her fingers below the edges of his mask and gingerly worked it off. When she loosened it and lowered it away, her eyes drank in his face, salivating.

His expression was neutral. Zero. It gave nothing of his intent away.

Within those features – paled by undeath – Serana saw everything. She could see the arrogance of a mage, the roaring flame of competitiveness that burned within warriors and the quick-witted resourcefulness of a thief. There lay the amorality of an assassin, the pride of a soldier and the predatory cunning of a vampire. Perhaps most prominent was the powerful lordship of a dragon, bursting with the innate urge to dominate.

Above, through, accumulated and in spite of that, she saw the man who had rescued her from Dimhollow Crypt. The same man who had become her companion, who had guided the stranger through a familiar land. He was hers, and she was more than glad to say she was his.

'…Shall we?' He whispered, leaning in slowly. They both had waited for this, no answer needed to be given.

Her jaw quivered in anticipation as the space between them lessened. She knew what was coming, but it seemed that time had stopped in order to prevent it. The deep breath was eternal, but shattered into nothingness once they took the plunge, and their mouths crashed.

Swiftly he stole her first kiss, and it was given without hesitation. Following after he conquered her second and third, and so forth.

Nervous as each other, they danced in clumsy harmony. Their lips melded and fought for dominance, moist and pliant to each other's touches. The soft texture of the collision drowned both in ecstasy, enthralled. He might have had past experiences – she didn't know or care – but this was his first, true notion of a kiss. A declaration of love without words.

In unison he brushed her hair away and pushed with his tongue. She granted entry, beginning to succumb to the innate lust of vampires. Within her cavern they twisted with one another, his tongue and hers.

They continued their oral dance for an indiscernible amount of time – and for every unmeasured moment their – particularly her, untamed and virgin meme – libidos pushed higher and higher to the surface. He could control it, to an extent at least. The rest of her body joined in, convulsing with the exchange, grinding against his.

He smirked playfully when she nipped at his tongue and when she started losing control. He could continue it, but that would be teasingly cruel. Had he the chance, he would have taken her right there, but at the moment the quest took priority.

Their first kiss ended, leaving both panting and wet – for more than the mouth in Serana's case. She almost collapsed against the wall, overwhelmed. Despair couldn't help but grin as he licked her residue from his lips.

_Perhaps I went a bit too far…_He was caught up in it as much as she in fairness, but he had also been leading it. When her eyes fluttered back open she gazed with forlorn lust, denied of release.

'…Despair…' She breathed, attempting to lean in for a second round. However, with a single finger he held her at bay. They couldn't get caught up in the lust, not yet anyway. With that she slowly recomposed herself, steeling her mind for the battle ahead.

They turned forth to the imposing doorway to the castle's heart, ready. He wound his hand into hers as he re-masked with the other. 'You're…so beautiful.' He murmured, for her ears only. She couldn't help but smile and shift a complimented blush, squeezed her fingers around his.

Suddenly her hand tensed, not of her own doing. Then her arm followed suit and stiffened. She began to panic internally when Despair started talking.

'Serana, you know yourself that the two things Harkon needs is the bow…and you. Even with the intent to kill him, it would be lethally foolish to bring him those two things.'

The freezing continued, ailing her shoulder and upper-left torso.

'I would ask you to run and run, until I found you again – we cannot risk us losing and giving Harkon the chance to complete the prophecy. But I know you wouldn't do that, you wouldn't let me fight alone.'

Now her legs were stiff and she buckled, Despair catching her in his arms. It was then she saw the small, yellow-green light dancing between his fingers – the same hand that had held hers. It was Alteration magic from a high level of the branch.

_A paralysis spell!_

'I apologize for doing this, but I will not risk Skyrim if we die.' He lowered her down, the paralysis rending her unable to move. Laying her delicately on the ground, and placed Auriel's Bow beside her – Despair gazed longingly into her erratically darting eyes. Tears had begun to form.

'This won't take long to wear off. When it does I want you to run until I find you again.' He chuckled. 'Of course, what's the likelihood of you doing that?' When he stood up he could see her frail attempts to move as his fingertips twitched weakly. Even Alduin cringed at her fall to his deceit; the World-Eater didn't have the appetite to respect Despair's intentions.

'I love you, Serana.'

With that he left her, disappearing through the large doors and locking them behind him.

_**Inner.**_

'So, the dragon has returned.'

Despair immediately tensed and willed electricity into his palms – but he kept them hidden under the Dragon Priest Cloak, centering the building energy to his two first fingers on each hand. A few moments of observation yielded the knowledge of Harkon's whereabouts.

The room was dark and carved from a stone blacker than the rest of the keep. Cobwebs hung from the pillars and low stairs rose into two platforms on either side of the rectangular chamber. At the back and centre was a well-kept altar of Molag Bal, the likeness of his horned visage spewed blood. A few feet in front of it stood proud, tall and very much awake; Lord Harkon.

He wore the same Royal Vampire Robes as he had when they last and first met. This time however Despair noted the elaborate gold and red crown on his brow and the curved blade at his waist. The sword drew semblance from the Blades' dragon-slaying weapons and it unnerved Despair to look at, especially in relation to the title he had been addressed by.

'Does Alduin's slayer have no words then?' Harkon spoke again, wearing an arrogant smirk.

Despair frowned at the denouncement. _How would he know that…_Nevertheless he retained a confident façade and strolled forward.

'None that you have any right to hear.'

'Oh, so there is some bark to your bite. Tell me Dragonborn, why haven't you brought Auriel's Bow to me as my servants instructed?' He gazed behind Despair. 'And…where is my daughter?'

'Safe.'

'Safe? Why would she need to be _safe_?' He hissed the word.

'Don't play with me, Harkon. I'm in no mood.' Despair stopped walking and raised his hands, squaring both at his vampiric sire.

The elder sighed and dropped his pleasantries. 'Very well, but only if you do the same.' Despair raised an eyebrow before Harkon continued. 'Dragonborn! Hero of the Empire in Skyrim, Champion of as many Daedric Princes…! Arch-mage, Harbinger, Thieves Guildmaster and however many other titles you have obtained.' Harkon sneered. 'You've been quite busy; Despair, though I suppose it should simply be in a dragon's nature to dominate.'

'What does that have to do with all this?' Despair countered.

'Nothing really. I just want to know who I am killing.'

_Good luck. _'And how is it you came by that knowledge?' Though he was fairly certain he already had that knowledge.

Harkon scoffed and almost broke into a laugh. 'Vampires have the ability to learn their victims' memories dependent on how much we drink of their blood. While your…dragons' blood may not have been the best for anyone but yourself, I learned more than enough about you.'

Despair knew that, at least the first part. The latter made sense, but that brought to mind the question of how Serana had taken his blood without ill consequence.

'Of course, falling into a blood-induced coma was as hindering to my plans as it was humiliating. I must thank Garan somehow for making sure the prophecy was fulfilled in my absence anyway…perhaps I shall permit him into our fold?'

Despair snarled.

'But first things first…' Harkon's sly smile turned dark and his eyes flashed red. He reached out a hand, palm up. 'Give me Auriel's Bow and my daughter.'

The Dragonborn let the question settle like dust over the mood, preparing his body for the fight. 'She isn't yours anymore; Serana will not suffer for your whims.' Harkon's eyes went wide at the implications of that statement, true or not.

'You…!' He roared and in a rain of black and red; imploded. Despair turned away to avoid the shocking sight, but was punished for it when a force suddenly blasted into him and pinned him against the wall. The grey-skinned, crowned Vampire Lord held Despair several feet off the ground against the wall, grinding its prey's neck between the stone and its forearm.

'How dare you!? She was not yours to claim!'

A gagged cough was the only reply he got, followed swiftly by a sharp kick to the gut. It didn't knock Harkon loose but it gave enough for Despair to breath.

'…She never was…she claimed me…'

A roar of fury punctuated Harkon's next strike, one that would have reduced Despair's head to a blood splatter on the wall. In the nick of time The Dragonborn called upon his Thu-um and burned the world in front of him, along with Harkon's arm and shoulder.

'**Yol! Tuur! Shul!'**

'GRAH!' The King of Volkihar hit the ground and rolled several times over, his arm blackened. Despair fell to the ground and landed on one knee, steadying himself with his hands. Without wasting any time he willed Harkon's gift to his call and shifted, ignoring the excruciating pain of transformation.

'Hah! You think that will work on me!? You're pathe-' Harkon was interrupted when Despair's Vampire Lord Form lunged at him and grabbed him by the throat. The younger crashed his sire into the altar of Molag Bal, ensuring that the Daedra's horny visage pierced Harkon's back.

With a shriek of pain the king pushed his attacker off and disappeared in a swarm of bats, reappearing on one of the higher platforms. The sounds caused by muscle tissue and bone reconstructing from where the altar had cut into him were audible, but neither fighter was fazed.

'How naïve, you think you can outmatch me as a Vampire Lord!?' Harkon boasted, spreading his boney, flightless wings out in intimidation. He gasped when Despair suddenly kicked off the ground and flew up at him, tackling the king into the wall behind. Dust and debris fell as Harkon shook Despair loose, throwing him back down to the lower level. The Dragonborn however, caught himself in midair and revealed his unique powers.

'Impossible! How can you- There hasn't been a flying Vampire Lord in eons!'

Despair's wings beat rhythmically as he hovered, mocking his sire in silence. 'Just so, but I'm not only a Vampire Lord.' He suddenly shot forward and took Harkon by the head, flying sideways against the chamber walls and grinding the elder into them. When he finished he tossed his enemy down, curling his talons around a railing and observing the fallen blood-lord from above. 'How pitiful, Harkon. Is this the best you can offer?'

Without warning the king's prone form exploded into darkness, shaping itself into a swarm of bats. They charged up and as one, rammed into Despair, biting and clawing with tiny implements as they pushed him into the wall. The shrieking equaled Harkon's roars in Despair's ears and he twisted to remove the small, numerous creatures from his body. Failing, The Dragonborn willed back into his normal body and shrunk down from the Vampire Lord Form, dropping out of the air and into the second-level platform. The bats chased him but he had already called Chain Lightning back into his hands and stood his ground.

'Die!' He swung one of his arms horizontally and cast a bolt of jumping electricity. The light tendril bounced from one to another, piercing through several of the black bats. His second spell followed shortly after, dropping the number of bats down to half of what it had been. A few more shocks and only one was left, flapping wildly away.

'**Wuld! Nah! Kest!'** Despair shot forward and snatched the little devil out of the air, gripping it tightly when he returned to normal speed. 'Nice try Harkon, but not good enough.' But just as he began to squeeze down the rodent expanded and out shot a cruel, muscular limb – followed by five more. The first hand locked Despair into a stranglehold, curling its talons around his throat.

'I think it's you who just isn't good enough, Dragonborn.' The words sounded as cold as the night and Despair was thrown back to the lower level as Harkon fully regenerated. In the next second the Vampire Lord was back on top of him, slashing viciously with his claws. Volkihar's ruler was about to rip Despair's neck into several pieces, but his prey shifted back into his own Vampire Lord Form and blocked the strike.

With a powerful, echoing grunt Despair outstretched his wings – with enough force to make Harkon stagger – and grabbed his enemy. Despair suddenly shot upwards into the ceiling and – using Harkon as a battering ram – soared through several of the castles solid rock layers. In only a few seconds they burst back out into the open again; this time in the howling, cold winds atop Castle Volkihar. The Dragonborn continued upwards for a few metres and dropped his enemy before dusting himself off. He looked back down to reengage his foe, letting himself lower and stand upon the flat roof.

It was completely flat, no walls or anything at the edges. The night cloaked both of them lovingly.

Harkon kneeled in pain, scratching at the frozen stone surface as he struggled to get back to his feet. His cape had been torn to shreds and was all but gone, revealing to numerous, bloody wounds he had sustained. However, as he pushed himself to his feet and eyed Despair in red his flesh resowed itself and he bore his teeth.

'How arrogant!' Harkon spat. 'How dare you, not even old enough to walk among your dragon-kin with merit, interfere with vampire politics!?' Despair made no comment, only flapping his large, draconic wings to get rid of some snow. 'Have you even considered what you're doing? You're standing in the way of something that would benefit all vampires; you're a traitor to your own kind!'

Now Despair had something to say. 'Am I? You want to kill Serana – another vampire, let alone own blood – just to fulfill some prophecy. Besides, do you think the rest of the world would stand by if vampires turned off the sun? We'd be hunted by everyone, not just the Dawnguard!'

Harkon faltered as the same argument from centuries ago resurfaced; the one his wife had made. 'Y-you…you've met Valerica, haven't you?' A mad smile grew on his face. 'Excellent, after I'm done with you and Serana – I'll drink you dry and find out where she is!'

A feral snarl readjusted Despair's features. 'You will not touch Serana – over my dead body.'

'Gladly.' Harkon muttered under his breath. He lifted off the ground, calling Blood Magic into his clawed hands and hovered. Despair did the same and they began casting Drain Life after another at each other.

The translucent, blood-red orbs would either collide into each other and explode or miss completely, neither hit their target. After several minutes of the same pattern, Despair purposely caused an obscuring explosion close to him, giving him a bit of a smokescreen. He followed up by firing two blasts at his enemy, one behind the other so that from Harkon's point of view it was only one. The Vampire Lord laughed mockingly as he neutralized the first one, only to cringe and fall back as the hidden one crashed directly into his chest. 'Gah!'

Despair chuckled; 'First blood.' He whispered to himself. He was already following up with another barrage of Drain Life shots, but Harkon rolled away and dashed around the area to avoid them. Suddenly the elder vampire dug his claws into the stone and kicked up, hiding himself in a cloud of dust. The Dragonborn slowed himself, preparing for whatever attack may come and stopped hovering with Blood Magic.

Then suddenly the unmistakable roar of a Gargoyle heralded the stone golem as it tore out of Harkon's hiding place, followed by a second. Despair steeled himself for the fight.

_**Serana.**_

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, or in this case; Oblivion.

As soon as the Paralysis spell had worn off the irate and saddened Volkihar princess had taken Auriel's Bow and raced in behind her love. All she had found in the heart of the castle though was an empty, battle-torn room and a massive hole in the ceiling, leading up into darkness. Immediately she left to race up one of the castles numerous towers, she had to save Despair.

If her mind wasn't such a mess, she could have considered taking the Vampire Lord Form for herself and following the fight directly. Though even that would be questionable; she had no fondness for Molag Bal's legacy.

As she tore through the dark, candle-lit passages of Volkihar though with the golden bow slung over her back an interesting notion juggled in her mind. In all honestly, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to kill Harkon more, or Despair for leaving her behind.

_**Despair and Harkon.**_

The Dragonborn opted close-combat, entering a martial-art pose in the face of the charging Gargoyles. The first shot off the ground with its wings at him, narrowly avoided as Despair spun on his heel. He used the momentum of his dodge to grab the passing beast's wing and tear it off in the turn, grounding the creature. He held the sharp, stony appendage up and was about to stab the Gargoyle through the neck, but then the second one caught up and took his attention.

The heavy monster rammed into him, tossing him aside like a ragdoll. Vampire Lord or not, Gargoyles were much bulkier. He rolled over several times before picking himself back up, immediately forced to reengage the creature.

It made a break for him and he easily caught its wrists in both hands. With the barest of effort he smashed them, rendering the Gargoyle's arms to end in stumps. Without missing a beat Despair suddenly flapped his wings heavily forwards, blasting the Gargoyle off its feet. It tumbled stone over stone until it careened off the edge, falling and dying in the waters below.

_That's one…_

The first Gargoyle charged back and Despair swatted it away with another flapped wing. It didn't go as far, simply crashing and grinding its face into stone chips on the ground. Before it could get back up, Despair bat-swarmed over and punted it, sending it tumbling over the rim after its companion.

_Mere fodder…_ 'Harkon! Don't play games with me!'

Suddenly a wall of black knocked Despair off his feet. He shifted into a swarm of bats again before he hit the ground and recomposed, returning to one being. When Harkon's swarm returned Despair battered the screeching horde with a blast of wind from his wings, scattering them. The menace retreated to a safe enough distance that Harkon could reform into one – snarling menacingly at Despair.

In sync they lifted off the ground and charged at each other – Despair actually gliding in flight and Harkon simply using his levitation Blood Magic to propel him forward. When they collided there was an indecipherable twist of talons and teeth until one of them was suddenly thrown away – crashing into a faraway tower of the castle.

Despair followed in pursuit as Harkon blasted into the side of the ebony structure, splaying his sharp claws as he got close. Suddenly one of Harkon's "wings" shot out and speared through The Dragonborn's abdomen – too fast for Despair to either see or dodge. The dust settled and Despair got a good look at the triumphant, leering face of his enemy – blood beginning to trickle from his lips due to the wound.

'Molag Bal thought himself so clever when he gave me wings that could not fly.' Harkon gloated, raising the other one – a pale, skeletal appendage that ended in a cruel spike – and slicing it across Despair's chest. 'See, not even a dragon can stand against me. Not even-'

A sudden jolt from Despair silenced Harkon. The younger vampire had lunged forward and dug his hand knuckle-deep in the elder's chest. Harkon gasped raggedly as a dim red light started flowing from his wound to Despair – revitalizing the dragon-souled fighter. The Vampire Lord's skin pallour seemed to pale even more than it already was and his skin stretched against the bones within. As Despair leeched off his sire with the well-placed Drain Life, he pushed off the impaling spike and flew back a bit, healing himself and hovering.

'I'm not any ordinary dragon – or did you forget?' Despair continued to pound Harkon with Drain Life, simply floating and shooting each orb after another. When enough had been sucked from the Nordic vampire that all remained was a stretched bag of skin, Despair scoffed and lowered his arm.

'_Think again, Dragonborn_!' Harkon suddenly shot out and tackled Despair, bringing them back to the flat, rooftop arena. He grinded Despair's head against the ground with the momentum and pressed his claws into the skull. When they slowed, Harkon nailed both arms into the stone with his wings – pinning Despair.

Before the younger's eyes, Harkon's body restored itself effortlessly. Volkihar's lord smiled and proudly said; 'When you are as old as I – or have drunk from as many – you too will be able to use the regeneration factor that comes with this gift.' He twisted the spikes deeper into Despair's arms. 'Sadly for you, that will not happen.' With that Harkon focused his mind and began to draw the raw, vampiric energy from his victim – stealing directly from the Vampire Lord Form.

Feeling the boon slip away, Despair consciously de-transformed and returned to his Breton state. His frame shrunk away and the excess mass disappeared into darkness. Pleased with his efforts, Harkon widened his jaw and prepared to bite down, finishing his enemy.

'**Fus! Roh! Dah!'**

The Thu'um-fueled roar knocked Harkon back, though his wings kept him pinned down. Volkihar's King reeled and twitched in the wake of the shout, and Despair willed electricity into his palms. He flexed his arms – drawing blood from the impaled wounds – and blasted his enemy with wide, unforgiving shots of lightning. Harkon staggered back further and The Dragonborn took his chance.

'Har-_kon_!' Despair roared and pushed his arms up, sliding them up the Vampire Lord's wings. With unprecedented strength he twisted his forearms around and crossed over to grab Harkon's appendages, pushing himself to his feet simultaneously. Suddenly he flipped over and twisted the wings back painfully, before giving an almighty grunt and digging his heels into the ground.

Then, he ripped Harkon's wings out of the latter's own back – punctuated by a spray of blood-confetti and screaming.

'_**Noooooooooooooooooo!**_' The ancient vampire cried, falling to his knees. Fountains of high-pressure blood spurted endlessly from the stumps below his shoulders, unrelenting as he clawed at them. Despair panted and gave quick yelps of pain as he pulled the dismembered limbs out of each arm – but quickly healed the wounds with Restoration magic and apathetically regarded his enemy.

'Look at you.' Despair scoffed. 'Even with your wings you couldn't fly – even bats can fly.' The Dragonborn circled the felled beast mockingly. 'What will you do now, without them?' He raised his fist. '_Crawl!?_' He brought it down with lightning fury, smashing Harkon's face into the stonework. When Harkon weakly reached out with his hand to get away, Despair called Conjuration magic into his hand.

'_Bound Scythe_.' He lifted the weapon over his head and cut down, cleaving into Harkon's shoulder. 'How amusing, what happened to that regeneration factor?' A single, dragonscale-armoured boot lifted and pressed into the stumps on Harkon's back. 'Grow them back,' He taunted. 'Or are you unable?'

The Vampire Lord's face contorted in rage and for a split second he had his full power again. He exploded into a massive storm of bats, flinging The Dragonborn away and dispelling his scythe. Despair rolled to his feet and prepared as the maelstrom charged him down, diverting them with a potent wall of lightning.

Harkon re-formed, wounds now regenerated – but rather than completely healing there was now thick, ropey scar-tissue where Despair had most recently hurt him, and his wings didn't reform. Perhaps they couldn't, Despair had to watch out for that in the future. He stood proud, but hunched from his pain. With a vengeful sneer Harkon's body shifted and shrunk, returning to a very bearded and very enraged Nord.

It was no longer a fight between vampires – but now the individuals themselves.

Harkon's eyes glowed red with fury and he snarled, taking a heavy step forward. 'Don't think you've won this, dragon. I was far stronger than you can conceive even before I became Molag Bal's scion.' The Blades-esque sword that Despair had noted made a slick, screaming sliver against its sheath as Harkon drew it. 'Even then, I was trained to take down your kind.'

Despair's eyes widened as his enemy adopted a stance familiar to The Dragonborn. Delphine utilized such a posture when she fought – and had tried to impart the deliberate, sweeping sword style that the Blades employed unto Despair. While he hadn't taken to it completely, he knew it well enough to recognize it in others.

_Harkon is…_ He turned to the internal presence. _Alduin! Why didn't you tell me?_

'_Sos Konariik is not one familiar to I. Perhaps he was…Zu'u Tiid, afterwards.' _The World-Eater replied. Despair gritted his teeth and acknowledged the threat before him.

'You're…a member of the Blades?' Harkon simply smirked in response and suddenly, tore into a gravel-spitting charge. The Vampire Lord grinned flashily and struck down from above, sidestepped by Despair. A second after the bat-guarded blade was already in motion again, cutting horizontally.

The Dragonborn bat-flitted away, reappearing at a safe distance. When Harkon chased after he stamped mad, losing all finesse that Blades typically exhumed in combat.

'Are you afraid, _dragon_!?' He mocked as he pierced forward. The stab was ducked under and Despair returned with a flick of electricity, stunning his enemy. With Harkon disabled for the moment, he drew his fists side-by-side and channeled Conjuration magic between them. Smoothly, he pulled them apart – rending a curved, ethereal blade into reality.

'_Bound Katana_.'

Harkon's eyes glinted with ironic glee when he saw the weapon. He quickly resumed his attack, striking fluidly and precisely. Each blow was deftly parried by Despair, the two skirting around each other as the clashed.

The elder vampire's blows were swift and clean, culminating in a compilation of fast, strung-together arcs. Despair's by comparison, were heavily chaotic – switching unpredictably from rapid, instinctive attacks to slow and powerful swings. Harkon's style consistently consisted of balancing himself with one hand on his belt and the other attacking – using a mix of punching stabs, singing slices and 360 degree turns. Sometimes Despair would use two hands on his sword, switching suddenly to one and then two again.

However, as the fight played out Despair began to realize something. He was defending, and steadily losing.

Thinking quickly, he adjusted his current swing so that it would match right onto Harkon's. The blades locked and crossed and their wielders leaned in, pushing against one another. Despair forced against Harkon and Harkon forced back, both of them digging foot-shaped indents into the ground.

'Give up, dragon! I slew hundreds of your kind before ascending to what I am now, you don't have a chance!' Harkon yelled over the hum of steel meeting Magicka.

Despair retorted, roaring it out. 'Really? Then let's see how good my chances are when I burn you to ashes!'

The Vampire Lord blinked and readied himself – how foolish that his enemy warned him in advance. He heard the sharp intake of air that heralded the ancient roar of dragons and grinned, preparing his body. His feet planted solidly into the brickwork and crossed his arms over defensively, waiting to counterattack. Too many times his enemies had taken advantage of his weakness to flame, dragons being the worst.

But instead of the dreaded Fire Breath Shout, he heard an unfamiliar, knife-sharp utterance.

'**Suh! Grah! Dun!'** Despair pulled his blade out of the lock he had created and set back to attacking. However, Harkon couldn't keep up even with his own eyes – let alone his blade – and within moments Despair's strikes had rendered him a bloody, string-carved mess. In desperation the Vampire Lord thrust his sword directly at Despair's head, only for The Dragonborn to react by ducking under it and slicing down the length of Harkon's blade – taking a chunk of the swords guard and three of his foe's fingers with it.

A mad grin lit on his mask-hidden face and Despair struck again, sinking his sword into Harkon's opposite shoulder. In the same wounded motion, Harkon staggered and tripped, dropping his blade and gargling helplessly. Despair capitalized and drew his knife – black and curved – and thrust the blade into his enemy's sternum.

'Now, _die_!' Despair placed both hands on the hilt and let loose a tremendous reserve of Destruction magic, channeling lightning through the small weapon. Harkon's body lit up and seized, shaking violently. Thick tendrils of electricity jumped all around them and the scent of burning flesh began to hang in the air. Through the smoke and blinding flashes, Despair held fast until his Magicka pool ran out.

When the crackling energy-drive stopped, the two fighters stood perfectly still for a few moments before one fell back. Harkon hit the ground limply, his skin shedding off his flesh in streams of ash. The Dragonborn panted for a bit, keeping his arms up around his dagger, and lowered them. He looked down at his fallen enemy for a forlorn moment as she sheathed his weapon and recomposed himself.

'Old fool.' Despair turned on his heel and walked away, pulling his Dragon Priest cloak mockingly around himself. After taking a few steps however, he staggered and grunted in pain. _Damn…looks like I didn't get away as cleanly as I wished. _His right hand rose to clutch the abdominal wound he'd received, even if he'd healed it with Harkon's own life force it still bled – along with many others that had been endured throughout the fight.

Calmly he lifted his left hand up and started casting Restoration magic over himself, letting the soothing aura wash over him. Still, the wounds would require more specialist attention. Colette would not be happy.

_Let alone Serana…_ He thought idly, bringing a smirk to his lips. Suddenly he froze – now remembering his vampiric other. The Paralysis spell should have worn off by now, so she should be running around the castle looking for him. A wave of joy and guilt washed over him simultaneously – brought from the death of her danger mere seconds ago and his leaving her behind respectively.

No, Serana was not going to be happy at all.

Suddenly the sound of pounding steps and a ripped-throat roar rushed behind him. Dread filled up in Despair as he turned, but all too slow and was struck down. He blocked desperately with his arm, resulting in a deep cut down his bicep, and was sent sprawling. Turning onto his back he looked up, seeing the enemy he thought dead once more.

Harkon's skin had blackened completely – what was left of it at least. Both eyes jutted painfully out of their sockets and his lips had been completely burned off, leaving exposed gums and monstrous sharp teeth for all to see. What was left of his clothing barely counted as rags – if he had nethers left they would've been exposed. With a bare-flesh hand he clutched his sword and rose it up.

'_Gaaah_!' Despair cried out as Harkon's steel pierced his flesh. The Vampire Lord stabbed through armour, flesh and bone at The Dragonborn's thigh, pinning him to the ground. Harkon twisted the blade in and snarled. Volkihar's lord leaned down and spat in The Dragonborn's face.

'You can't kill me! I'm far beyond your pathetic mortal methods of execution!' He pulled back and opened his maw wide, preparing to sink his teeth into Despair's neck. 'Do stay still; I hate it when my food runs away.'

_No!_

Suddenly a ray of light broke over the horizon and blinded both of them. Harkon fell away and staggered back, holding his charred arms over his face as he stepped back and away from his prey. Despair heard a strangled gasp emit from the Vampire Lord, but he couldn't see why. Sunlight burned white into the closed lids of his eyes, and then vanished, giving him the chance to see again.

_How ironic…saved by the dawn._ Slowly The Dragonborn pushed himself to his feet – discovering that he was unable as Harkon's blade had crippled him. He spat in frustration – he had to finish Harkon while he was distracted! He charged lightning into his palm and steadied his aim, but hesitated when something caught his eye. Or rather, the lack thereof.

Sunlight had saved him and blinded Harkon – but upon looking he found that there was no sun at all. It was still pitch-black night. _How…?_

Then he looked over to Harkon, and his eyes widened in surprise. Sticking starkly out of his chest was a golden, light-emitting arrow, pierced halfway down the shaft. Harkon's own eyes danced madly in his head as he looked for the source, Despair following his line of vision to a figure behind him – holding an ivory bow with white-hot arrow nocked.

'…Serana.' He gazed longingly at her.

Her intense gaze focused cruelly on Harkon, aimed true down the length of the Sunhallowed Arrow. With trembling fingers she slowly curled off the bowstring, letting the second arrow fly loose at its target. It struck Harkon brutally a few inches below the first, making him stagger back three steps. Within the next second a third arrow shot forth and hit him in the stomach, bringing his upright stance down.

Despair watched in silence as Serana brought her father low, Harkon now hunched over weak legs. Three golden spears stuck out of his body, slowly incinerating the already-burned flesh around them. He returned his gaze to Serana – as terrifying and beautiful as ever – and said her name again.

'…Serana…'

She seemed not to hear him, and it was only then he noticed the thin trail of smoke leading from her palms. He frowned inwardly, before recollecting his own negative initial reaction to Auriel's Bow – his vampiric side. Serana was more vampire than he'd ever be, and she didn't wear gloves. Holding the artifact was enough to have it burn her.

'Serana, let go!' He called out, but was again ignored.

Harkon looked up one final time, every muscle in his body strained to the limit. With a long-overdue sense of mortality he stared at his kin, and choked out a breath.

'…Daughter…'

Serana scowled in rage. 'You are not my father.'

**Twang.**

The bowstring sprang and fired the fourth arrow dead-ahead. A radiant lance of sunlight pierced into and through Harkon's mouth and throat, poking out the back of his neck. His eyes rolled up in his head and with a dead gurgle, he disintegrated into red ash.

Despair watched the Vampire Lord's death with interest, and more than a touch of satisfaction - lying down and propped up on his elbows. He was about to make his attempt at pulling Harkon's sword out of his leg when he was suddenly caught under a dark, trembling shape that fell on top of him. Quickly, he recognized it as Serana and broke into a warm smile, unrecognized due to Morokei. Then the smile fell as he heard her quiet, evocative sobbing.

He pulled her in tightly, embracing the shaking princess with care. Not a word was spoken between them – none had to – as they let themselves bask in the presence of one another. Finally, after an unknown period of time, one of them spoke.

'Don't you ever do that again.' Serana whispered into his ear.

He hugged her tighter. 'I won't. I will always be at your side.'

She nipped at his lobe. 'You fool, we'll be at each other's.'

* * *

Sorry for the long wait guys, I've been busy. Very busy. Hopefully the length of the chapter makes up for it. I get that it ends kind of abruptly, but that's just how I'm leaving it.

Making Harkon a long-lost member of the Blades? I did it mostly for funsies, the fact that his sword closely resembles a Blades weapon was pretty cool to me, so I worked it in. Plus it adds a more personal level to the fight that Harkon kills dragons.

As for next chapter, you'll all see. It'll be fun. I will do a Dragonborn DLC Arc, but I'm considering a chapter-long arc between this one and that.

Leave a review or PM, thanks for the support. Au Revoir.


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